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<h1><a href="https://archiveofourown.org/works/28911798">Common Ground</a> by <a class='authorlink' href='https://archiveofourown.org/users/Megashock82/pseuds/Megashock82'>Megashock82</a></h1>

<table class="full">

<tr><td><b>Category:</b></td><td>DCU, Superboy (Comics), Superman (Comics), Young Justice - All Media Types</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Genre:</b></td><td>Adult Content, Brotherly Bonding, Clark is Kon's dad, Cussing, DC let them be bros!, Daddy Issues, Extreme AU, Family Issues, I write this at like 10 at night and in between classes, Jason and Kon live together, Kon was rescued from Cadmus as a baby, Kon-El | Conner Kent-centric, Not Canon Compliant, That also means make Clark Kon's dad, Timeline What Timeline, We need more Kon and Jon content, any errors are my own, but he's still the same age as everyone else, entirely self indulgent, just point them out in the comments if it bothers you please, like everything is different, unbeta’d</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Language:</b></td><td>English</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Status:</b></td><td>In-Progress</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Published:</b></td><td>2021-01-29</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Updated:</b></td><td>2021-03-26</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Packaged:</b></td><td>2021-05-13 11:36:11</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Rating:</b></td><td>Teen And Up Audiences</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Warnings:</b></td><td>No Archive Warnings Apply</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Chapters:</b></td><td>12</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Words:</b></td><td>38,655</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Publisher:</b></td><td>archiveofourown.org</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Story URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/works/28911798</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Author URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/users/Megashock82/pseuds/Megashock82</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Summary:</b></td><td><div class="userstuff">
              <p>Connor Kent hasn't seen his father in 6 years, and he's ok with that. He owns a bakery in Gotham with Jason, and life is just fine. He doesn't miss his dad's bright smile, or his stepmother's sharp wit. He's perfectly okay, thank you very much. That is until he's caught between a rock and a hard place and Superman comes to save the day, turning his world upside down.</p>
            </div></td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Relationships:</b></td><td>Clark Kent &amp; Kon-El | Conner Kent, Jonathan Samuel Kent &amp; Kon-El | Conner Kent, Minor or Background Relationship(s), Tim Drake/Kon-El | Conner Kent</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Comments:</b></td><td>81</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Kudos:</b></td><td>185</td></tr>

</table>

<a name="section0001"><h2>1. Conner Kent's Very Bad Day</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Summary for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
            <p>Conner has a no good very bad day, and it starts with him losing his glasses, and ends with a surprise visit from dear old dad</p>
          </blockquote><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>This my first work ever, so take it easy on me 😅. Pretty much all of the characterization comes from other fics that I've read so lmk if any of it is off. Besides that, this fic is super duper AU, like I'm pretty much throwing canon in the trash. For starters, Conner was rescued from CADMUS as a baby, in order to fit with the timeline, Project Kr was started way earlier. Conner's human DNA comes from an unknown donor that may or may not be revealed in this fic (it's not luthor). Conner knows that his origins are funky, but it doesn't really impact him due to having an actual childhood in this fic. But also that childhood caused other problems, which you can clearly see.<br/>TW: Badly described panic attack, bombing</p></blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>Conner knew that he was going to have a bad day as soon as he woke up. His hand reached for his glasses on his bedside table, only to come up empty. Confused, Conner reached for his glasses again, only to come up empty handed once more. Blearily, Conner sat up in his bed, and wiped the tired from his eyes. He looked around his room, skimming past the unfinished works and knickknacks lying around the room with perfect vision. He didn't really <em>need</em> the glasses; he was a superpowered half-alien of course. But even if he hadn't worn the S in six years, he didn't want to risk any identity exposures</p><p>"JASON!" Conner shouted, hoping his roommate was awake, "HAVE YOU SEEN MY GLASSES?"</p><p>"DON'T YOU HAVE X-RAY VISION, DUMBASS?" His roommate shouted back; which ow, even if Conner wasn't wearing a suit, he still had super hearing. Stretching out of bed, Conner made his way to the living room, where he could hear Jason watching some sort of news.</p><p>"YEAH, BUT THAT DOESN'T ANSWER THE QUESTION, DIPSHIT."</p><p>Jason's blue eyes twinkled with mirth as he looked at Conner's unkempt form in the doorway, "Nice bedhead, roomie," Jason joked to Conner's displeasure.</p><p>"Yeah, well I'd look better if I hadn't spent ten minutes looking for my glasses," Conner bit back, "where are they Jay?"</p><p>"Guess you'll just have to use those super-senses of yours and find out, huh?" Conner glared at the other man' words, but nonetheless he began to idly search around the living room. Paying half attention to Jason's news as he did so.</p><p>"<em>Now to the Metropolis Action News, where Daily Planet reporter..." </em>Conner stilled at the words on the television, and Jason looked at him with concern. If Conner were to turn around and look to look at the reporters face, he would more than likely see someone who had once entertained a kid Connor in some shape or form. Someone who was good friends with... <em>him</em>. Conner felt his TTK coil tightly around him. "<em>It's been six years, and the people of Metropolis only have one question: Where is Superboy?"</em> </p><p>Jason immediately switched the channel, but it was too late. The TTK field around Conner lashed out, splintering the drawer that he had been sorting through. Conner looked blankly down at remains of the shattered drawer. <em>Where is Superboy? Where is Superboy? Where is Superboy? Superboy should be out there saving lives, but he isn't because he's a fuck up. Superboy What were you thinking!-</em></p><p><em>"</em>CONNER!" Blue met blue as Jason looked at Conner with concern, "fuck, I'm sorry Conner, I didn't know they would play that here in Gotham."</p><p>"No, no. It's my fault, I shouldn't have lost control like that."</p><p>"Hey, no it's okay. <em>You're </em>okay, everyone's fine."</p><p>Conner accepted Jason's words easily, it gave him an excuse to ignore the effect that Metropolis had on him. "Sorry for the table, I don't know what came over me," Conner lied; he knew exactly what had happened. Jason did too.</p><p>Jason sighed, then said, "You were triggered, Conner, it's a normal response."</p><p>"Yeah, in traumatized soldiers," Conner snorted, "just gimme my glasses."</p><p>Jason stared at him, seeing something invisible to Conner, and nodded once; leaving to retrieve the item. Conner sat alone on the floor, and took a deep breath in. <em>I am not Superboy. My name is Conner Kent. I am not Superboy. My name is Conner Kent</em> . Jason came back into the room holding a small, black leather case. Wordlessly, he handed it to Conner, whom accepted it with grace. Conner felt his TTK relax now that he was holding the familiar object.</p><p>"Thanks, Jay. I'll meet you at the bakery."</p><p>***</p><p>Conner strolled through Gotham's metro, already two streets away from the quaint apartment that he shared with Jason. Conner smiled to himself, remembering how Jason had bargained Bruce for that apartment. It had been a compromise: Bruce had wanted only the best for his son; Jason was too proud to "Rely on that old bat for everything" as he had said. Thus Jason had gotten a much smaller apartment located in the brightest part of Gotham. </p><p>Conner hummed as he walked, letting muscle memory guide him to the familiar painted brick of the bakery. The mural had been his touch, a combination of radiant reds, oranges and yellows displaying a sun setting over a lone white flower. Opening the door to the Red Emporium, Conner breathed in the scent of baked goods.</p><p>"You're late," a voice said critically.</p><p>Conner jumped, but smiled when he recognized who the voice belonged to. "You know, for someone with super hearing, it's incredibly easy to surprise you," remarked Tim Drake.</p><p>"I'm not sure if you know this, Tim, but not everyone is hyper vigilant, some of us are normal," Conner snarked.</p><p>"Conner, you are literally part alien," Tim deadpanned.</p><p>Conner couldn't help it, and he shook with uncontrolled laughter. It shouldn't have made him laugh nearly as much as it did. In fact, Connor typically hated to be reminded of his Kryptonian heritage. But it was different with Tim. For one, Tim didn't mention the big SB; but he also said it in a way that was so distinctly <em>Tim</em> that Conner couldn't help but smile. Conner fixed his glasses then told Tim with mirth, "Thanks, Timmy, I really needed that."</p><p>Tim didn't question what exactly he'd helped Conner with, he only smiled and said, "It's no problem big guy. Now get to work, we opened three minutes ago."</p><p>***</p><p>Jason caused a ruckus arriving at the bakery, the tell-tale slam of the door a sign of what was to follow. Conner looked up from the register at Jason's shout: "OH, TIMOTHY," Jason shouted towards the back of the shop where Tim was doing whatever he did. Anything from taking a nap to solving Gotham's latest "unsolvable" case. "I HAVE A GIFT FOR YOU!" The patrons of the store simply ignored Jason, the 8:30 rush was far too used to his behavior. Normal customers probably wouldn't take well to abrupt shouting, Conner thought, but Jason's antics were just part of the Red Emporium's charm.</p><p>Conner was broken out of his stupor by Jason slamming down a tray of drinks in front of him. "What's up assface," Jason said sloshing the drinks around. Conner noticed that, and used his TTK to keep the contents of the cup from spilling out; counters were always a pain to clean, even if he had super speed. "I figured you could use a little booster after this morning, so I got some coffee for us." Jason smiled at him.</p><p>Tim instantly appeared at the mention of caffeine, and his red rimmed eyes locked onto the tray, confirming Conner's suspicions that Tim napped in the break room. "What happened this morning?" He asked idly, already sipping from what Conner presumed was a straight black coffee.</p><p>Conner's heart started to beat just a little faster, and he was about to tell a lie that Tim would see right through when Jason saved him. "Nothing that you need to know about, replacement," Jason snarked, "now go back to the dark corner that you call an office, don't you have taxes to do or something?"</p><p>Thankfully, Tim dropped his question and snarked right back to Jason, "Yeah, taxes for <em>your</em> business, I'll have you know that-"</p><p>"Wayne Enterprises is seeing an extreme increase in new hires and you have to calculate those <em>important tax breaks</em>. You have your own business to manage. I get it, now go, shoo." Tim looked like an agitated cat glaring at Jason, but he eventually did leave. Conner let out a breath, and turned to Jason to offer his thanks. Jason winced at Conner's expression, and broke even more bad news.</p><p>"Don't thank me yet roomie, remember that bridezilla?" Jason asked. Conner quickly raked his mind, and unfortunately for him, he came up with more than one client that fit the description.</p><p>"Which one?" Conner inquired back.</p><p>"The one with the mother." Conner almost groaned aloud. Normally he could handle a bride who wanted a perfect cake because he could understand the want for a picturesque wedding. When that bride is placed together with her mom who undermined the bride's every decision, while also questioning Conner's ability as an artist; well things just didn't stay civil for long. It was even worse when the mother-in-law got involved too.</p><p>"Yeah, I know how you feel, she asked me if I used free range eggs in our cakes," Jason simultaneously consoled and complained to Conner, "says her mother has a few requests to make about the decorating, too."</p><p>Conner couldn't help it, and he groaned that time; several customers looked up in confusion, Jason was the loud one. Conner's day had been ruined for the second time.</p><p>"Sorry bout that Conner, you have fun up here, I'm gonna get started on tomorrow's batch."</p><p>***</p><p>The after school rush was Conner's favorite part of the day. Partly because it meant more money for him as a business owner, and partly because he liked to see the smiles that his and Jason's baked goods brought to their little faces. Gotham's Academy for Little Ones was down the street from the Red Emporium, and Conner had been suckered into many bake sales for the school. As much as Conner provided for the academy's baking sales, Jason always gave double. As much as he wanted to deny it, Conner thought, Jason had a heart of gold.</p><p>His musings were broken by a tiny voice speaking from the other side of the register. "Uhm, hi Mr. Kent, how has your day been?"</p><p>Conner smiled at the two boys in front of him, "How many times have I asked you to call me Conner, Eric? Mr. Kent is my..." Conner's voice trailed off. It'd been six years, but the ghost of his words still haunted Conner's mind.</p><p>"Mr. Kent is a different person than me. Now what can I get you boys?"</p><p>Eric only scoffed at Conner's words, "My parents raised me with respect, Mr. Kent. But get me a lemon bar."</p><p>Again, Conner smiled and nodded at the eleven year-old. He looked to the younger boy who was hiding behind Eric's leg and asked, "And what can I get you, Cory?"</p><p>Cory glanced at him bashfully before finally looking up to his brother with a wide stare. Eric, to his credit, rolled his eyes with extreme subtlety for an eleven year-old and said, "He can't read your mind, Cor. Now tell the nice man what you want, before I decide for you."</p><p>Cory looked up at Conner with his wide eyed gaze and stammered, "C-can I get a lemon bar to please?" Turning his L's into W's like a proper six year old; it melted Conner's heart.</p><p>"Of course I can buddy, two lemon bars coming right up." Conner gave the two boys their treats, and watched them exit. The Matthews' brothers' visit had given Conner a new subject to think about while taking orders. Growing up, Conner had always wanted a little brother. Someone for Conner to protect. Someone to tease. Someone who would idolize Conner the way that Conner had idolized<em>... </em>And those were the bad thoughts. Conner shook his head, every time he thought about his childhood, it always came back to <em>him</em>.</p><p>Conner thought about Jason's relationships with his brothers to try and clear his mind. He wasn't going to get into the mess that was Jason's dynamic with Dick, but if Conner focused, he could hear Tim and Jason bickering in the back of the bakery. They had come a long way from the whole attempted murder incident, and their fights were more out of habit now; and if Conner had anything to say, rather entertaining to watch. Thinking of attempted murder made Conner think of Jason's relationship with Damian. The two were getting along rather swimmingly, and Conner remembered something about Jason and Damian going to the movies later that day. It said a lot about the Wayne family that two of Tim's brothers had tried to kill him on separate occasions, and Conner thought that they would benefit from therapy. But then again, a therapist would probably cry tears of frustration at his own family issues.</p><p>Conner hadn't wanted a relationship built on petty arguments like what Jason and Tim had. Or even a perfect brotherly bond that the thought of Jason taking Damian to the movies evoked. No, growing up Conner just wanted someone around. Maybe things would've been different.</p><p>***</p><p>It had been a rather slow day, compared to the Red Emporium's usual business, so Conner had closed shop at an early 3 in the afternoon. He didn't have anything to do for the rest of the day; his meeting with Amelia, the bridezilla, had been postponed to Friday, and he was ever so thankful for it. Connor looked to Gotham's skyline, and he had a sudden idea. It had been a while since he last painted anything, he'd been so busy taking orders for the bakery, a ride around the monorail would be perfect for inspiration.</p><p>Built three years ago, the monorail was a rather recent addition to Gotham. It was, of course, funded by Wayne Enterprises: a solution to the pollution, as Tim had told Conner. He was inclined to agree. Since the monorail was built, Gotham had started to improve from her decrepit state, slowly reaching the future. It was only logical that one of her villains would sight to destroy it.</p><p>Conner just wished that he knew that they had chosen that one Wednesday to do so before he had boarded the elevated train. Conner panicked slightly in his seat as he listened to an unfamiliar voice explain about the bombs strategically placed throughout the monorail.  Logically, he knew that he wouldn't come to any harm, being an invulnerable half-alien; except, Conner Kent wasn't. Connor Kent was just a human with poor eyesight. There wasn't anyway for Conner to explain how he survived a five story fall <em>and</em> an explosion at once. Not without revealing certain things that he'd rather remain secret. He x-rayed the compartment just to confirm the threat. <em>Fuck, </em>Conner thought to himself, <em>I'm fucked</em>.</p><p>Whoever had decided to bomb the monorail had planned it out exceptionally well. It was an incredibly bold move, bombing such an iconic figurehead of Gotham's future in broad daylight, but everyone knew that the Bats strictly operated at night. Conner watched as people around him started to pray, and he truly felt bad for them. His civilian identity might get ruined, but at least he'd still be alive.</p><p>Conner looked at the man next to him, who had been trying to form a sentence for the last two minutes. Finally, the man made up his mind, and faced Conner with extreme conviction, "You know what I regret the most?"</p><p>Conner didn't, but he didn't wait for Conner's response before continuing, "That I never did anything with my life. I have all this money, and I never used it for anything. Ultimately, my life contributed nothing to the world."</p><p>The man laughed brokenly, "Sorry bout that kid, I just dumped my entire life's angst on you before telling you my name. I'm Dmitri, you got any regrets of your own?"</p><p>Conner looked at the man with interest, he wasn't ready to talk about his issues with anyone that he knew, but this was a stranger. Conner decided to humor this man's final question "Call me Connor. I haven't talked to my dad in six years."</p><p>Dmitri winced, shutting his brown eyes in sympathy, "I'm guessing your last conversation with him wasn't that positive, was it?"</p><p>"No," Conner replied stiffly, trying to keep his tone even, "it wasn't." </p><p>Dmitri nodded, "What would you say to him right now, if he were here?"</p><p>Conner kept his TTK on a tight leash, and tried not to blow up at the stranger for asking that question. To Dmitri, Conner was in the same situation,  both of them were going to die. It was a stranger offering solace to another in their last moments, never mind that Conner would survive this with no real injury.</p><p>"Sorry, Dad," Conner told the other man. Dmitri nodded at him sagely, and the unfamiliar voice announced that there was five seconds left on the bomb. Dmitri's hand met Conner's, and Conner tried his best to comfort the man as much as he could.</p><p>The bomb exploded, Dmitri's grip tightened, but Conner heard him before he saw him. The sonic boom announced his arrival, and Superman committed to saving the day. He immediately put out the fire that the bombs had caused, blowing a gust of frost breath onto the train. Conner had tried to measure just how cold the Man of Steel's breath was once, the thermometer had broke. The immediate danger was put out, but the supports of the monorail were hanging by a thread.</p><p>Superman acted quickly, stabilizing the supports with two quick bursts of heat vision, and flew down to the monorail, lifting it off of the ruined tracks. A picture perfect rescue for the Man Above Men.</p><p>Dmitri's grip was still tight on Conner's hand, and Conner whispered to him, "We're safe, you can open your eyes now."</p><p>"Are you sure we aren't dead? I heard a bang-"</p><p>"We're on the ground right now, Dmitri, look out your window."</p><p>"How did we sur-" Dmitri dropped Conner's hand in shock as he looked at the image out the window, "Holy shit, Conner! That's Superman!"</p><p><em>Fuck</em>, Conner did not want to deal with this right now, "Looks like him to me," Conner agreed.</p><p>"Superman's here! Like he's outside!"</p><p>"Yeah," Conner replied back blankly.</p><p>"Superman saved us!"</p><p>"Yeah," Conner said vacantly, thinking of his past, "yeah he did."</p><p>***</p><p>The ground was even more chaotic than the monorail. Conner had to focus his hearing to tune out the millions of panicked voices that the bombing had caused. Distantly, he could make out Superman conversing with the GCPD, detailing a basic plan to evacuate the civilians inside of the of the ruined vehicle. <em>Fuckfuckfuckfuckfuck</em>, Superman was coming. Conner was not prepared to see him at all. What if he tried to talk to him? Conner's TTK vibrated around his body in nervousness. What if he just ignored Conner? It had already been six years, Conner was sure that Superman couldn't care less at that point. The thought simultaneously assuaged and aggravated his TTK.</p><p>Conner looked up in surprise as Dmitri touched him, "You alright there, Conner?" the older man asked, "you seem stressed."</p><p>Conner wondered how Dmitri didn't feel Conner's anxiety literally vibrating on his skin, but he chalked it up to Dmitri's own stress. "Yeah, s-sorry, I'm still in shock I guess, I just need a quick breather."</p><p>"Yeah, I understand, I don't know how I'm not freaking out myself right now. It's not everyday that I make peace with dying, only to be rescued by Superman."</p><p>Dmitri was half right about Conner's stress. It <em>was</em> caused by Superman, but not for the same reasons. Whatever Conner could have replied to Dmitri was cut off by the door to the monorail opening. He closed his eyes in anticipation, and when he opened them Conner was met by the heroic presence of the Man of Steel. Kal-El looked the exact same as the last time that Conner had seen him. His black curl hung over his face, his broad shoulders radiated power, and Conner unconsciously drew into himself, trying to seem smaller. Next to him, Dmitri sat straight as a rod, staring at Superman with worship in his eyes. Superman scanned the train with a professional aura, assessing for injuries.</p><p>Conner couldn't help but look at the Man of Steel's commanding presence. The hero continued to scan the crowd, eyes glowing with x-ray vision, until he got to Conner's row. Slowly, Superman's eyes faded to their unnatural blue. A blue that was looking straight at Conner. Superman's aura faltered for just a fraction of a second. <em>U</em><em>nah</em>, Kal-El mouthed, and it took all of Conner's will not to acknowledge the word. Kal-El tore his eyes away from Conner, resuming his task, but it was clear to Conner that he was distracted.</p><p>The GCPD arrived shortly after Superman, and began to help the uninjured civilians out of the wreckage. Conner pointedly did not look to the back of the train as he was escorted out, but he could still feel Superman thinking about him. Dmitri was talking to him, but Conner wasn't listening to him at all. Superman had placed the wrecked train in Gotham's gardens, and Conner distantly wondered how Tim would deal with Ivy's inevitable tantrum. Dmitri babbled as they were led to the set-up area for those who were in the attack.</p><p>Conner interrupted Dmitri's chatter, "Look, sorry, but I really have to make a call right now, can you talk later?"</p><p>Something donned in Dmitri's eyes as he came to a realization, "Oh my god, I told my husband that I was on the monorail! Fuck, yeah I need to make a call too."</p><p>"Here," Dmitri said, handing Conner a plain business card, "call me if you ever need me, take it as a payback for dumping that on you back in the train." Conner nodded to Dmitri, and pocketed the card. Dmitri nodded back, and walked a way, dialing a number as he went. Conner reached for his own phone, and called Jason, who picked up immediately.</p><p>"I saw already," Jason's rough voice spoke through the phone, "how you holding up?"</p><p>That question could've been answered in so many ways, but Conner chose the simplest one, "I was on the monorail, Jason."</p><p>Jason paused before gently asking, "Are you sure that he saw you? I mean there must've been a shit ton of injuries, he could've been distracted."</p><p>Conner thought back to those blue eyes staring at him, the same color as his own, and that <em>word</em> that he had spoken, "There's no way that he didn't, Jason."</p><p>"Fuck! Conner don't leave, I'm coming to get you right now."</p><p>Conner didn't respond, and Jason didn't take it well, "One through ten, Conner?"</p><p>Again, Conner was brought back to the wreckage of the monorail, staring at the man he'd idolized for so long. <em>Unah</em>, he had said, and Conner had never hated understanding Kryptonian more.</p><p>"Conner?" Jason probed gently through the phone.</p><p>"Ten."</p><p> </p><p>***</p><p>Again, Conner heard him before he saw him. Superman's cape <em>whooshed</em> through the air as he gently landed on the ground. Conner had abandoned the trail set by the GCPD, and was still rather deep inside the forest. Jason would find him with his stalker-esque bat technology anyways. Slowly, Superman sat next to Conner on the garden's ground. Conner turned his head away from the older man. They sat in silence together, letting the sounds of the forest fill the void. Conner's TTK buzzed around him. Finally, Superman broke the tranquil silence, "Your parents must be worried about you, have you told them you're okay?"</p><p>Conner turned to face his father, "We're not on speaking terms," he said, his voice as frigid as the Fortress of Solitude. This wasn't the right place to do this, Conner thought, but clearly his dad had different ideas.</p><p>"Well, I'm sure that they could use some reassurance, every parent worries about their kid."</p><p>"What do <em>you</em> know about parenting?" Conner growled back, "Superboy dropped off the face of the Earth."</p><p>Conner took pleasure in the way that he made Superman flinch. His father's own eyes furrowed in restrained anger, "<em>Superboy</em> disobeyed orders, and has been too afraid to apologize," Superman patronized. This time it was Conner's turn to bristle. Why should he apologize when he wasn't the one who had said those words.</p><p>"Superboy isn't the parent in this relationship, <em>you</em> are."</p><p>His father's anger drained, "And I've realized that," he stepped towards Conner and clasped his shoulder, "come home, son."</p><p>Conner desperately wanted to say yes, this was his chance to fix everything, but his mind played that day back. Those words from the past still haunted him. He heard Jason arrive in the background. Looking at the ground, he shrugged off his father's hand and stated, "No."</p><p>He turned his back to the Man of Steel, avoiding the hurt in his father's eyes. Walking to Jason's car, five words stopped Conner in his tracks.</p><p>"Conner, you have a brother."</p><p>He paused in shock, but continued walking to Jason's car.</p><p> </p><p> </p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0002"><h2>2. Conner Kent's Slightly Better Day</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Summary for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
            <p>Conner doesn't react well to the bomb that was dropped on him, and it's made worse when he has to deal with his dad showing up again. He decides (Jason demands) to take some time to himself.</p>
          </blockquote><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>Thanks for the warm reception to the first chapter! I churned this one out as fast as I could for you guys, so I hope you enjoy it. I started some new plot points here that will be expanded on as the story goes on, so save your questions (or not, but the answer probably contains a spoiler). We get hints of timkon this chapter, but be warned it's practically crumbs rn, slow burn much. And there's a nice surprise at the end (not timkon)! Also, this chapter is a bit shorter than the last. I forgot to put in a kryptonian translator last chapter but unah: son; ehl te: my star<br/>TW: alcohol/drinking, vomiting.</p></blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>"Are you sure this is a good idea?" Jason asked as Conner swept the apartment for any and every kind of alcohol that they had.</p><p>"You used to drink any time you were mildly inconvenienced, I think that I'm allowed to get drunk after the first thing my dad tells me in six years is that I have a brother."</p><p>Jason winced at the reminder of his past alcoholism, but alas, he tried to console his roommate, "Look, I'm just worried about you, Conner. You aren't in the right headspace right now, I think you need-"</p><p>"What <em>I</em> need is to get so drunk off my ass that I forget this day happened. Go get the ring for me." Jason looked at Conner with worry, but he could sense that Conner wasn't going to budge on this. He left the living room where Conner had stationed to go retrieve the requested item. The Ring was a small piece of blue kryptonite that Jason stole from the Batcave about half a year after <em>that</em> day, placed in a simple silver band. Conner used to wear it whenever his anxiety would particularly bad, or when he wanted to experience human sensations, like getting drunk.</p><p>Jason returned with the ring in hand, and warned, "This is a stupid fucking idea, but this is the only time I'm letting you do this, okay? We're gonna talk tomorrow." And he handed the ring over to Conner. </p><p>"Yeah, well good thing it's today," Conner replied, and slipped the ring on. Instantly, the world around him became lesser. He couldn't hear Jason's heartbeat, he couldn't see the microscopic lint on the apartment's floor, and he couldn't feel his TTK wrapping itself around him. Conner couldn't feel a thing. He lifted a bottle of vodka to his lips, and gulped it down like he was a man in the dessert thirsting for water. Jason watched him drink, and left the apartment with a soft <em>click</em>.</p><p>Conner had been so <em>numb</em> during the short trip from Gotham's gardens back to the apartment. His father's words had sent him reeling, a common affect that they often had. The numb that the blue kryptonite caused was different. Superman's words were like a bucket of ice water poured all over him, freezing his body; but the kryptonite was like placing Conner in a cotton ball, muting his senses. Except the burn of the alcohol going down his throat, the blue kryptonite allowed him to feel that.</p><p>Conner continued drinking, relishing the burn that the vodka gave him. The only thing on his mind the liquor. The taste, the flow, the origin. Wait, where had the liquor come from? Jason didn't buy alcohol anymore and Conner couldn't get drunk under normal circumstances. Oh! Tim, Tim must've brought it by sometime. <em>Timtimtimtimtim</em>, Conner's drunken mind thought. Tim was so cool. He was smart. He was funny. He was hot. Wait... Tim was hot? Where did that come from? Before Conner could catch up to his thoughts, a knock on the door distracted him.</p><p>Was Jason back already? Oh man, Conner felt so bad, he was gonna have to make it up to Jason. With hugs and cuddles. Lots and lots of cuddles. Jason loved cuddles, even if he said he hated them. But Jason had a key, why didn't he just let himself in? That meant it was a surprise on the other side of the door! Surprises were so fun, well except for today. Today was a bad surprise. Conner took another swig of vodka, he wanted to forget bad surprises.</p><p>The person knocked on the door again, and Conner made it his mission to find out the surprise. He stumbled from the couch to the door, knocking over a stack of books as he went. Conner giggled, sober Conner had to clean that up later. Then he frowned, he didn't wanna be sober Conner. The thought slipped his mind as he reached the door. He smiled again, thinking of who could be on the other side. Was it Jason? Was it Tim? Was it the mystery bomber, back to finish the job? Conner hated that guy, he'd caused all of sober Conner's problems.</p><p>The answer turned out to be neither, and Conner opened the door to come face to face with Clark Kent.</p><p>"You're not Jason," Conner slurred, and went to shut the door. It was a futile attempt of course, his father simply pushed it back open, and walked into the apartment.</p><p>"No, I'm not," Clark agreed, looking around the apartment, "nice place you have here."</p><p>Conner had an internal debate on how to react to his father's presence. Sober Conner would react with anger, but he was different; he was drunk Conner. So he decided on sarcasm, to try and appease sober Conner, "Thanks, Jason's <em>dad</em> got it for us."</p><p>"And <em>your</em> dad is right in front of you," Clark replied steadily, "we need to talk." Conner was not drunk enough for this conversation. He stumbled towards the couch to take another swig of liquor, but tripped over his feet on the way there. Clark's eyes zeroed in on the movement.</p><p>"Conner," Clark stated with concern, "are you drunk?"</p><p>Sober Conner definitely wasn't going to have a good time. "I'm twenty-four," Conner slurred, "I'm allowed to drink now, Dad."</p><p>"That's not what I meant, how are you-" Clark's voice trailed off as he came to a realization, "show me your hands, Conner."</p><p>Conner sat down on the couch, and the younger kryptonian pulled his arms closer to his body responding with a childlike refusal. His father's brow furrowed in concern, "Conner you know that kryptonite of any kind is incredibly dangerous, what made you use it?"</p><p>Conner could feel the liquor catching up to him, and drowsiness crept into his mind. The last thing he said was: "Why are you asking? It's not like you care."</p><p>Distantly, he heard a voice say, "Oh, <em>ehl te</em>, you don't know how <em>much</em> I care."</p><p>***</p><p>Conner woke with a groan. His head pounded, and he felt a bubbling in his stomach. How much had he drank yesterday? Oh fuck. Yesterday. Conner remembered the explosion, and the resulting rescue from Superman. Holy fuck, Conner had a brother. How old was he? What did he look like? What was his name? Conner tried to remember the rest of the events after Jason had left the apartment, but he couldn't; the vodka seemed to have done something right. The pounding in his head increased, and Conner groaned again. He checked his hands and yeah, he was still wearing the blue kryptonite.</p><p>He tore the ring off of his finger, and placed it on the desk by his bed. And that was weird, someone had left aspirin and water for him. Conner racked his brain trying to figure out who was there, but only drew up blanks. The pounding in his head had gotten better just by distancing himself from the blue kryptonite, but Conner had worn the ring too long for its affects to immediately subside. He took the aspirin and water, thankful to whoever had laid it out for him.</p><p>Conner cursed when he read the time from his phone. Jason absolutely was going to murder him the second he walked into the bakery. Conner tried to speed dress, but the blue kryptonite still lingered in his system. Conner accepted that he was going to be late, and gathered a flannel and jeans at a normal speed. Conner grabbed his glasses and a beanie, and left the apartment. He locked the door with his teeth un-brushed and shoes untied. </p><p>He thought about a lot of things on his walk to the Red Emporium. He thought about the weather, a pleasant springtime warmth. He could feel the sun recharging him. He thought about his coming appointments. Nothing too stressful, just a couple discussions with clients and their wishes. He thought about music. Conner hoped that Taylor Swift went pop-rock for her next album; Better Than Revenge was literal music to his ears. He thought about the city around him. Past the crime and the shadow, Gotham was truly a sight to behold. It was buildings upon buildings, each with its own history. Above them all, Wayne Tower shone like a beacon in the dark of the city.</p><p>And when Conner had nothing left to think of, he let himself to think of his brother. He wasn't sure why, but Conner's immediate feelings towards the (presumed) kid were resentment. Instead of reaching out to Conner, they had replaced him with an entirely new kid. His parents clearly thought that it was easier to start over instead of fixing the old one. Conner knew that he'd always been an afterthought, but there was something about getting explicitly replaced that pissed him off. If Conner weren't still under the effects of blue kryptonite, he suspected that his eyes would be tinted red and his TTK would be buzzing around him. That kid would grow up with everything that Conner never had, and become what Conner never could. </p><p>He hated that kid for it.</p><p>Lost in thought, Conner had made his way to the bakery. He checked the time on his phone, only 10 minutes late. Maybe Jason wouldn't murder him. <em>Moment of faith</em>, Conner thought as he opened the door. The bakery's brick walls welcomed him; its atmosphere swaddled him like a warm hug. Conner was content to stand in the front of the shop, his stomach violently lurching interrupted his tranquility. He had forgotten about the blue kryptonite in his angst.</p><p>Conner rushed past  Jason at the register, who didn't spare him a glance, and slammed open the door to the staff bathroom. He strode to the toilet, and vomited an entire stomach's worth of contents. Conner coughed, then wiped his mouth with his hand. He got up, only to be brought back down by another bout of vomiting. He flushed the toilet when he finished, and looked at himself in the mirror. Conner looked like absolute shit. His eyes were shot with red behind his glasses. His skin was sickly pale. His overall demeanor practically shouted unhealthy. Right, time to man up. Conner took in a breath; <em>in, out</em>. Time to face the music.</p><p>Jason was still at the register when Conner returned from the bathroom. The white streak in his hair reflected the morning light coming in through the windows. Conner paused behind him, taking in the state of the store. They were the only people in the bakery, as it was still rather early in the morning. Conner decided to try and talk, "Sorry... uh for last night," he apologized awkwardly.</p><p>Jason turned his head to Conner, but remained silent. Conner stayed calm, continuing, "Hey, talk to me Jay, I know that I fucked-" The rest of his words were cut off, as the door to the bakery opened. A tall lady wearing impressive heels walked up to the counter, her black coils bouncing behind her. Conner watched as Jason treated the customer with a blinding smile, inquiring about her day. Jason was in the mood for talking; just not to Conner.</p><p>Jason wrapped around to the display case, retrieving the customer's order. He handed it to the lady, who immediately took a bite. She made a noise of delight, and asked Jason, "My colleague recommended this place to me, you do fundraisers for schools, right?"</p><p>Jason's customer service smile turned real as he happily answered, "Yeah, bake sales, class parties, you name it."</p><p>The lady grinned brightly, and she handed over a business card to Jason, "Excellent, my name is Daphne Acheampong, I'll be in touch."</p><p>"I look forward to helping out," Jason replied, and Daphne left the bakery as quickly as she had come.</p><p>Conner didn't want to ruin Jason's happiness at the opportunity to help, but his roommate had no qualms. "What you did to me was really fucked up, you know," he spoke, like he was disinterested in the conversation.</p><p>"I know, I'm sorry Jay, but do you know how I felt?" Conner asked, well aware that Jason knew exactly how it felt to gain an unexpected sibling, "what did you want me to do?"</p><p>Jason's stoicism faded, and his blue eyes filled with empathy, "It doesn't matter what I wanted you to do, what's done is done. But I can tell what I think you should do."</p><p>"Huh?" was Conner's response.</p><p>Jason rolled his eyes and continued, "I think that you should fuck off," Conner protested with a noise, "seriously Conner, you look like shit. I think that you should go back home, grab your nerdy art shit, and paint your feelings out or whatever. "</p><p>"My appointments today?"</p><p>"Cancelled. And don't even ask about how I'm gonna prep for tomorrow and work the register. We're closed, I need to help Tim figure out the monorail attack, and you should take time to yourself before you end up blaming that kid for something he can't control."</p><p>"But," Jason went on, "I'm still majorly pissed at you and you WILL be cooking dinner for the next week. Fuck outta my bakery now, roomie."</p><p>"You mean OUR bakery, Jay."</p><p>"Yeah whoever the fuck's bakery it is. Mine, yours, ours; fuck outta it."</p><p>***</p><p>Conner took Jason's advice seriously that time. He'd packed a bag with a few colored pencils and a sketchbook, and set out to find a location to paint at. To outsiders, Gotham lacked natural beauty, but Conner thought that they didn't try hard enough. There were the gardens, a few gorges just out of the city, and the docks; just off the top of his head. Conner ruled out the gardens immediately. He wasn't sure if the wrecked train had been moved yet, but he was completely sure that Ivy would be pissed either way. Effects of the blue kryptonite still were still in his system, and he didn't want to fight off murderous plants without a little bit of heat vision.</p><p>Conner also eliminated the gorges from his potential locations. He might stop by sometime soon, but they were just too out of the way for an impromptu visit. Which left the docks. Conner wasn't quite sure how to feel about the docks. He had many fond memories of Jason shoving him into that nasty, nasty water that probably would've given a normal human some sort of bacterial disease. But he also had memories of pulling Jason out of that same water and <em>Jasonwasn'tbreathingwhyisn'thebreathinghe'ssocoldwhatdoIdowhatdoIdo</em>. </p><p>Conner didn't go to the docks. Instead, he had found himself across the street from one of Gotham's many museums. He sat down on the bench with the least amount of dirt on it and got to work. He reached into his bag for a black colored pencil for basic line-work, and blanked on what he actually wanted to draw. Conner was at Gotham's Museum of... he checked the title again; Gotham's Museum of Nocturnal Animals. He snorted to himself, who didn't get inspired by bats? Dick named himself after a kryptonian legend, Jason chose his name because he was emo and brooding at the time, Tim probably thought that he was being ironic by adding the red to <em>Robin</em>, and Damian was named after a bird.</p><p>Huh, Bruce was the only one who actually used a bat-inspired name. Well except Cass, but she lived in Hong Kong, so she didn't count. Conner, like the former and current Robins, didn't get inspired by the idea of bats either. He was about to leave the museum when he felt his TTK slowly wrapping itself around his body. The world exploded into sounds and pictures soon afterward. Conner heard Tim muttering in his office about repair costs, compared to Jason who was dusting around the bakery singing some Top 40 pop song.</p><p>Conner almost broke the pencil that he was holding at the sudden difference in the world. <em>Blue kryptonite fucking sucks, </em>Conner thought as he readjusted to the power of his senses. The rock practically made him deaf and blind compared to his normal experiences. Not to mention, hangovers were terrible. Conner thought back to the pounding headache and violent vomiting that had taken up his morning. Getting drunk wasn't worth the trouble; the powerlessness that the kryptonite caused, or the hangover the next morning.</p><p>Conner's newly rediscovered senses made him to look at the museum differently. Literally, instead of looking at the plain masonry of the buildings walls, Conner slipped into x-ray vision and took a look at the inside. <em>This place is boring as fuck</em>, Conner thought as he scanned around the building. He was sure that there were probably tons of sciency facts and cool taxidermied animals to look at, but Conner really wasn't interested in it. Science was more of Tim's thing, speaking of which, Conner should call him when he finished. Tim probably had forgotten to sleep, the dork.</p><p>One kid, however, seemed to be having the time of his life. He eagerly pointed to an animal at the wall, and his father picked him up to have a closer look. Inspiration struck Conner like a bolt of lightning, and he immediately put his pencil to paper. He couldn't see their faces, but it didn't matter to Conner; emotions could be expressed in so many different ways. He drew the child's hand reaching as far as he possibly could, eager to touch, to explore, to <em>fly</em>. Conner wasn't sitting on the bench anymore, mentally, his head was in the clouds. He drew the kid's dad holding him up, proud of child. Like his son was the light of the world. When Conner came back down, he pretended as if the two people in the drawing to be him and his father. </p><p>He didn't let himself pretend for long, he glanced down at his piece, satisfied with the results. He traded his pencils and sketchbook for his phone, dialing Tim on the bench.</p><p>The CEO picked up instantly, "Conner!" Tim said manically. Conner could imagine Tim, hyped on coffee with red rimmed eyes as he spoke. He probably was on two hours of sleep and everything.</p><p>"I was just about to call you!" Tim gulped down more coffee, that more than likely had an ungodly amount of espresso in it, "Jason said that you were on the monorail at the time of the attack, what can you tell me about it?"</p><p>Ahh, that explained Tim's mania: he was overworking himself. Tim expected an answer though, so Conner didn't express his concern right away, "There was a voice speaking over the sound system. Male, definitely older, but I couldn't tell much more than that, but Tim are you okay? You don't sound very good."</p><p>"Hmmm, that narrows down the list a little bit, did you get a good look at the bomb?" Tim spoke, skipping right over Conner's concern.</p><p>"Listen, Tim, I'll just meet you at the manor, and no, I didn't see the bomb that well, only to confirm it was there," Conner said, "even if I did get a detailed look, I probably would've forgotten about it due to other <em>events</em> that happened afterwards."</p><p>"About that..." Conner could feel Tim wince through the phone, "Wayne Enterprises has enlisted the help of two Planet reporters to try and catch a lead for us."</p><p>A sinking feeling passed through Conner's gut, "I hope that you're not talking about who I think you are," he said through clenched teeth.</p><p>Tim sighed, "Clark Kent and Lois Lane will be contracted under Wayne Enterprises for an indefinite amount of time," Conner's breath hitched and he looked towards the entrance of the museum, "until this case is solved, they will be living in Gotham."</p><p>His father walked out of the museum holding Lois' hand. A little boy with unnatural blue eyes already two skips and a hop in front of him. Conner's heart practically stopped in his chest as he looked at the boy. His little brother.</p><p> </p><p> </p><p> </p><p> </p><p> </p><p> </p><p> </p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0003"><h2>3. Interlude: Fatherhood</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Summary for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
            <p>Clark Kent wasn't ready to be a father, CADMUS had other ideas.</p>
          </blockquote><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>Thanks for reading, reader! Interludes will be glimpses of varying lengths into the past, which this fic is heavily centered around. Interludes will show up whenever the plot calls for one, when I feel like writing one or when I'm stumped on how to continue the main story. The main story is primarily about Conner and his feelings, interludes give us looks into other characters and their thoughts. I thought it'd be fitting if the first one was about Clark and his feelings towards raising a surprise child as a single dad. Hope you enjoy!</p></blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>Clark Kent was a man of many things. He was twenty-four years old. He was a new investigative journalist at the Daily Planet. He was the sole survivor of the distant planet, Krypton. He was a founding member of a league of superheroes. And he was a damn good grillmaster if he said so himself. The trick was to use just the right amount of heat-vision to get that perfect sear. Yes, Clark Kent was many things, but a father was not one of them.</p><p>Maybe one day Clark would settle down with the right lady, and live the whole two and a half kids with a white picket fence life, but for he was perfectly content by himself. In fact, Clark found that he actually preferred life on his own. He went to bed whenever he felt like it, ate whatever he wanted and just genuinely enjoyed his own company. There was one person that Clark didn't mind spending time with; he would even say he enjoyed their shared time.  And she was currently waving her hand right in front of his face.</p><p>"Smallville!" Lois Lane barked, "you in there?" Clark jumped in his seat at the sound of her voice. He had <em>supersenses</em> for Rhao's sake! How Lois alway managed to surprise him would always befuddle Clark. <em>Bruce must have mentored her</em>, Clark decided.</p><p>"Smallville, you're doing that again," Lois said leaning over onto his desk, "did you even hear what I said?"</p><p>Clark did not. "Huh?" he said, adjusting his glasses on the bridge of his noise.</p><p>"I <em>said</em>," Lois spoke dramatically with an eyeroll to match, "that Jimmy and I are going out this Friday."</p><p>Clark was confused, why was Lois telling him this? "Good for you?" he asked quizzically.</p><p>Lois got up from his desk, "Not like that Clark!" she she chastised, fixing her hair, "are boys and girls not allowed to have fun together in Smallville?"</p><p>Clark was going to answer, but Lois interrupted him, "Don't answer that, I don't need to know what kind of <em>fun</em> bored teens in Kansas get up to. Anyways, Jimmy and I are going out Friday. You're coming with us." Lois patted his shoulder and walked away. Clark sat bewildered in his desk for a moment as his brain caught up to him.</p><p>"Wait, Lois!" Clark shouted at the woman's retreating form, "Where are we even going!?"</p><p>"You'll find out!" Lois called back, not even turning her head to look at him. Clark smiled to himself; he might be an alien superhero, but Lois Lane was a true force of nature. He clocked out of work with the strange feeling of getting bulldozed, metaphorically speaking; he was invulnerable of course.</p><p>***</p><p>Clark had just arrived at his tiny apartment when his Justice League comm started to buzz in his pocket. Clark's curiosity rose, he couldn't hear any immediate threats that required Superman's help, and he was ninety percent sure that it was Barry's shift up at the tower. He answered the call, and was greeted by the gruff voice of the Batman, "Clark, you need to come to the Watchtower, <em>now</em>."</p><p>Clark knew that the Justice League channels were completely secure due to Batman's borderline psychotic vigilance; but the usage of his real name put him on high alert. "What's wrong? Is everyone okay?" Clark fretted back through the comm.</p><p>Bruce's reply was carefully crafted, "Nothing's exactly <em>wrong; </em>and yes, everyone at the tower is fine Clark, but you need to be here."</p><p>Clark's fret faded into confusion as he asked, "Bruce, what's happening at the tower, why do I need to be there?" Clark thought to himself for a short moment and then added, "Hal didn't start another intergalactic war again, did he?" Those two weeks off planet had been a pain to explain to Perry.</p><p>Bruce sighed over the comm, "No, Hal did not start another war, yet he still manages to be an affront to my stress levels."</p><p>"Then why do I need to go to the tower, Bruce?"</p><p>"I can't explain it over comm, you have to see for yourself." And as instructed by Batman, Clark donned the Superman suit, and took on a burden far greater than the mantle of Superman.</p><p>Clark arrived at the Watchtower in record time, partly because he was concerned that there actually was a threat and partly to figure out what Bruce was being so damn cryptic about. Superman's cape swept along the Watchtower floor as he tried to locate where Bruce was. He heard heartbeats coming from the infirmary, and something that sounded suspiciously like... wailing?</p><p>Clark entered the infirmary and he was met with an image that he couldn't quite believe. "Bruce," Clark asked slowly, "why is Hal holding a baby?"</p><p>"I love kids, Supey! They get me extra points with the ladies; guys too, occasionally." Hal spoke up, "besides, this little guy loves his Uncle Hal. Don't you little man?"</p><p>"Uncle Hal?" Clark asked.</p><p>Bruce shot a glare to the Green Lantern, "Hal," he began, "why don't you go find Barry? I think I saw him swoon when he saw you with the <em>kid</em>."</p><p>"I can tell when I'm being dismissed, thank you very much. And for your information I WILL go find Barry, and I WILL make out with him all over the Hall of Justice." Hal stood up, still cradling the baby. He handed the child to Clark, who accepted him with confusion. One foot out the door, Hal called back to Bruce, "Good luck with this, Batsy," in a rare somber tone.</p><p>Bruce removed his cowl, dark hair spilling down his head as he rolled his blue eyes at the Green Lantern's words. Without the perpetual distraction that was Hal Jordan, Clark asked Bruce again, holding the baby in his arms, "Bruce, why did Hal just hand a child over to me?"</p><p>Bruce sighed and muttered a curse the Clark didn't care to decipher, "You might want to sit down for this, Clark." The other man obliged, and shuffled the baby into a comfortable position, as he had fallen asleep. Bruce started talking again, "Do you remember Cadmus?"</p><p>"The genetics facility we were investigating for a bit, why do they matter?"</p><p>Bruce ignored the question entirely, continuing with his story, "Around two days ago, Hal's ring picked up an unusual energy reading while he was flying by the facility. Hal notified me, and we rescued that kid from the facility around three hours ago."</p><p>"What does any of this have to do with me?" Clark asked.</p><p>"I'm getting there!" Bruce snapped, he took a deep breath in, "they called him Project Kr, Clark."</p><p>Clark looked down at the baby, and felt his stomach drop. The baby opened his eyes, revealing an unnatural cobalt blue; the exact same color as Clark's.</p><p>"Fifty percent of his genetic material comes from you."</p><p>The words flew out of his mouth before Clark even registered speaking them, "I'm not his father."</p><p>"His genetics say otherwise, Clark."</p><p>"Fathers are generally involved in the creation of their offspring, and I don't remember uhm- <em>seeing</em> anyone nine months ago."</p><p>"We're both adults, Clark, you can talk about you can talk about sex. The kid won't remember it. This child is fifty percent yours, he <em>is</em> your son, whether you like it or not."</p><p>"Bruce, I can't be his father. Disregard the fact that they... I- can't okay? My career's just starting, I double as a superhero in my free time, I can't handle a kid on top of it."  Said kid was awoken by Clark's speaking. Clark looked down and smiled at him, but it was strained. The baby didn't care or notice, and giggled back.</p><p>Bruce waited for the baby to stop before saying roughly, "Look at me Clark," and it suddenly occurred to the other man that Bruce had seen his parents murdered in front of him, "I grew up without my parents, Clark, I wouldn't wish that on anyone."</p><p>"We can send him to an orphanage or something, Bruce, he can't stay with me."</p><p>"And what would you do when he starts developing powers, hmm? What would you do when he burns the orphanage down because something triggered his heat vision? What would you do when he sees a man that looks almost identical to him fight supervillains with the exact same powers as him? I'm waiting, Clark."</p><p>Clark couldn't answer any of Bruces questions, "I-I'm not ready to be a father, Bruce," he confessed.</p><p>Bruce allowed compassion to show on his face, "I know," Bruce consoled, "but you'll have me, your parents, and god forbid, Uncle Hal, with you every step of the way, you aren't alone."</p><p>Clark nodded his head, <em>Rhao what was he getting himself into?</em></p><p><em>"</em>Clark, he needs a name."</p><p>Normal parents had nine months to brainstorm names for their children; Clark had nine minutes. Clark thought of the Kents, the people who had given him so much. The least he could give back to them was the name of their grandson. Conner, after his great-grandmother's maiden name.</p><p>"His name is Conner, Conner Joseph Kent."</p><p>Bruce hummed, "And as the second son of Krypton?"</p><p>"Kon-El."</p><p>***</p><p>Living with Conner was certainly an adjustment. Clark no longer slept whenever he wanted, and every waking moment was dedicated to taking care of his... son. He wasn't sure how he felt about fatherhood. It was grueling and stressful; and Clark rarely ever had a moment of downtime. But it was worth it when he got to see Conner smile. That smile energized him far more than any yellow sun ever would.</p><p>Clark had called into work sick for the next two days; Conner was a far more pressing matter than fluff duty. Bruce had sent Clark a ridiculous amount of baby supplies, as if Clark had quadruplets and not a single child. Blankets, toys, a crib, and even one of those fancy strollers. Clark wouldn't tell anyone this, but he never put Conner in the crib. In the rare moments that his son did sleep through the night, he did so tucked into Clark's side.</p><p>The first day that Clark spent with Conner was awkward. For Clark at least, Conner was about three months old and didn't care about those kinds of feelings. As far as Clark was concerned, Conner only cared about two things: food and potty. His favorite food at the moment was some sort of organic apple thing that Bruce bought; Clark hoped that Conner wouldn't notice a quality drop off when he had to start eating Gerber's. But the similarity made him smile, his Ma's apple pie was his absolute favorite. Oh, Rhao! Ma!</p><p>Clark walked to the land-line in the apartment's wall with Conner on his hip and dialed the Kent Farm's number. The phone rang three times and then the sweet voice of Martha Kent spoke, "This is the Kent residence, how may I help you?"</p><p>"It's me, Ma," Clark replied.</p><p>"Oh, Clark! Hello dear," Martha Kent cooed through the phone, "it's been so long since you've visited! I almost forgot what you sound like. Tell me what's new."</p><p>Well, here goes nothing, "Well, you see, Ma, I-I'm a father now."</p><p>"Could you repeat that dear?"</p><p>Conner had started tugging his hair, and Clark repeated with confidence, "I'm a father, Ma. I have a son."</p><p>The phone was silent for so long that Clark thought that Ma had disconnected, "The only girl you've told us about is that Lane lady, you two never-"</p><p>"Ma!" Clark half whispered, half shouted into the phone, "Lois and I aren't, we, no!"</p><p>"Well Clark, I know where babies come from, if not Lois then who else was it?"</p><p>Clark was almost as red as his cape, Rhao he was never going to forget this conversation. "Conner's special, Ma, he's a product of my <em>side job</em>." Clark was aware that to anyone not in the know it would sound like he was a prostitute. The thought made him redder. But he did explain Conner's origins as best as he could.</p><p>"Clark, dear, you need to choose better words. But, I will say that I'm excited, I was hoping you'd give me grandbabies, so what if they come factory made." This was the woman who had adopted a baby from a spaceship, Clark thought.</p><p>"Now Clark, you best be bringing little Conner out to the farm soon, you hear me?"</p><p>Conner had decided that Clark's hair was boring, and he grabbed the phone from Clark's hands, "ahbwa!" the baby shouted into the phone.</p><p>Martha laughed delightedly, "Oh I can't wait to meet you dear, I'll get started on a quilt right away."</p><p>Clark wrestled the phone back from the little boy, and spoke into the phone, "Sorry, Ma, I gotta go, he's acting up now."</p><p>"Oh you're fine dear, my minutes are almost up anyways. You bring that boy out here as soon as you can, Clark. I love you."</p><p>"Love you too, Ma."</p><p>"Wah woo!" Conner repeated.</p><p>***</p><p>Clark's second morning with Conner did not go as smoothly as the first. He started the day with Conner screaming. Right, babies didn't sleep, he didn't either anymore. Clark's first thought was to check for a dirty diaper; the worst part of parenthood, in his opinion. Nope, Conner was perfectly clean. He was also wide awake. Clark sighed to himself, this was going to be a long day.</p><p>It was five in the morning, and Clark would typically be getting ready for work by then. Instead, Clark blearily sauntered to his kitchen with Conner on his hip. He placed the infant in his high chair and gave him a Superman toy; both gifts from Bruce. Conner immediately shoved the toy in his mouth; Clark was glad that something managed to keep him quiet.</p><p>Clark absentmindedly started to make Conner a bottle of formula. He hoped that this wasn't what everyday from now on would be like; there was only so much sleepless nights a man could take. And he wasn't sure how he was supposed to take care of work and Conner at the same time. He could fly Conner over to Kansas; Ma would certainly love to coddle her grandson. But that wasn't fair to them; they had already raised one super child.</p><p>Clark looked at the child, "Guess I'll just have to take you with me, huh?" he asked.</p><p>Predictably, Conner did not reply.</p><p>Clark grabbed him from the high chair, and walked to his couch. Baby in arm and a bottle in the other. He idly sifted through his voice mails from yesterday; he'd been so caught up with Conner that he forgot to check. One message in particular stood out to him.</p><p>"CLARK KENT!," Lois Lane's voiced lit up the apartment, "THERE BETTER BE A GOOD REASON WHY YOU WEREN'T HERE TODAY-"</p><p>Clark deleted the message and decided to call her back immediately, Lois scared him. Clark laid Conner down in his lap and gave him the bottle with one hand, the other hand dialing Lois back.</p><p>The call was answered after one ring, "SMALLVILLE!" Lois exclaimed, Clark winced at the loud sound, he hoped it didn't set off Conner, "I was calling you all day yesterday! Where are you?"</p><p>Clark didn't want to answer that question, so he tried to distract Lois, asking, "How did you even find my number, Lois?"</p><p>"Have you ever heard of phonebooks, Smallville, get out of the past," Lois mocked, "Don't think that I didn't see you dodging the question, where are you?"</p><p>The best lie was the truth, Clark thought as he spoke, "I'm at home with my son."</p><p>Lois paused, then asked, "Did I just hear you right? I could've sworn you just said you have a son."</p><p>Clark grimaced, he hadn't thought of a backstory for Conner yet. "He's just three months old," Clark winged, "his name's Conner."</p><p>"And how come you've never mentioned Conner before?"</p><p><em>Play dumb, play dumb</em>, "You never asked," he dismissed the question.</p><p>"And there's no photos on your desk?"</p><p>"I'm a private person." Clark replied, "Lois why would I lie about being a father?"</p><p>"Call it the inner reporter in me, Smallville. I'm guessing you can't make it out tonight then?" Clark had completely forgotten about his plans with Lois and Jimmy in all of the commotion. Just another thing that Conner's appearance had shaken up.</p><p>"You'd guess right, I have to take care of him tonight."</p><p>"Sorry that you can't make it out, then Smallville. I hope he feels better."</p><p>"Thanks, Lois," Clark muttered, "me too."</p><p>The line fell silent, and Clark put the phone down. Conner had finished his formula and was looking up at him with wide blue eyes. <em>Oh, </em>Clark's resentment fell away, and he was certain that he fell in love. He smiled down at the baby. Conner wasn’t going to grow up like Clark did, confused and scared of his power. Clark would make sure of it. He stared into his son’s eyes.</p><p><em>I'm going to give you the world</em>.</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0004"><h2>4. Apple Pie</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Summary for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
            <p>Conner bakes a pie, people eat that pie</p>
          </blockquote><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>Sorry for the long-ish wait! I don't really know how TTK works, so it does whatever I want it to. We get some character development here, and the plot should role out next chapter!<br/>TW: none</p></blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>
  <span>Conner left the museum faster than humanly possible, the citizens of Gotham wouldn't notice a little burst of kryptonian speed; if they did, they probably didn't care enough to bother. He wasn't sure where he was going, preferably somewhere far away from Clark and his family. Conner paced the streets of Gotham, the drawing in his bag weighing him down. His legs led him to a familiar location.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>The mural of the Red Emporium shined down on him. Jason had kicked him out, but surely he would understand? He opened the door, and its chime calmed him down slightly. Jason grinned at the sound, "Welcome to the Red Emporium how may-" he abruptly cut off once he saw who had opened the door. He blinked owlishly and then asked, "The fuck? Didn't I tell you to go do artsy shit or whatever?"</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Conner wasn't feeling up to words then and replied, "I did."</span>
</p><p>
  <span>"Right, let me see it then, roomie."</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Conner wordlessly took his sketchbook out of his bag; the drawing weighed heavier in his hands. It was just a piece of paper, but it made Conner's arm feel weak. It was like the lead from the pencils had climbed out of the paper and into Conner's body. He tore it out and shoved the drawing into Jason's chest.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Jason grunted at the force; Conner wasn't watching his strength. He gave the drawing a thorough look, and then he looked it over again. "Holy shit," Jason whistled, "Conner I think that this is one of the best drawings you've ever made." Wasn't that great? Dad and his </span>
  <em>
    <span>new</span>
  </em>
  <span> son had managed to inspire one of Conner's best pieces, according to Jason. It would make Conner feel better if the art was bad at least.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Jason cemented his opinion, "Yeah, this is fucking brilliant, roomie, but who are they?"</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Conner answered robotically, trying to keep his voice even, "That's my dad."</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Jason's face morphed from his impressed expression to a carefully crafted mask, "</span>
  <em>
    <span>Oh</span>
  </em>
  <span>," he said.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>"The other one is- he's m-my brother."</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Jason delicately set the drawing down, and stepped over the counter to Conner. He wrapped the kryptonian in a hug, and Conner leaned into it. Jason smelled like flour and vanilla, a sign that he had just finished baking.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>"They're here, Jay," Conner whispered into his best friend's shoulder, "Mom and dad, in Gotham. The kid was with them."</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Jason patted his back soothingly and asked, "Did you talk to them?"</span>
</p><p>
  <span>"No, I uh left as soon as I saw the kid. I thought that dad was making him up, Jay. Like some weird ass plan to get me to talk to him," Conner stated, "But h-he's real. A real life fucking kid."</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Jason let go of Conner and looked into his eyes, "I know how you're feeling," he murmured, "but I can't stop you from feeling it. Come on, there's dough in the back that should be ready to knead."</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Conner followed Jason into the kitchen, located in the back of the bakery. Jason swore by making every product by hand; he said that machines made his pastries taste wrong. He was lucky that his business partner had super speed. On busy days, Conner made pastries faster than any kitchen aid could dream of doing. He wasn't able to bake them though, his heat vision was too hot.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Jason rummaged through one of the refrigerators, and exclaimed in triumph as he found what he was looking for. Jason motioned for Conner to flour a table, and dropped the dough down with a </span>
  <em>
    <span>thunk</span>
  </em>
  <span> once Conner had done so.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>"Alright, you work out your weird alien emotions back here," Jason grinned, "while I take orders out front, capisce?"</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Conner was stunned by Jason's sudden change in mood, and the other man smiled at him then walked away with bat like silence. Conner heard Jason greet a customer from the register, and took it as a cue to start kneading. Jason had said that he knew what Conner was feeling, but Conner himself didn't. He wished Jason would tell him, maybe then he would understand. At the moment, there were just too many emotions to sort through.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Conner felt everything and more. Anger, sorrow, and elation coursed through his mind. He focused on the anger. Anger came easy to him. Anger meant that he didn't have to focus on </span>
  <em>
    <span>why</span>
  </em>
  <span> he felt those other things. He kneaded the dough aggressively, careful not to ruin it with super strength. Fuck dad for leaving him alone for six years. Fuck mom for whatever it is she did. Fuck Tim for calling them here without Conner's permission. And fuck that kid for being wanted.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Conner thought back to the museum, and forced himself to remember what the kid looked liked. He was skinny, he was less square than Conner. His hair was a light chestnut, the same color as Lois'. His eyes were a magnificent blue, any doubt that Conner had about their relation disappeared when he saw them; only a kryptonian's eyes could shine like that. His grin was bright and beaming; Conner hated it. The boy looked like he was six or five years old, the thought made Conner frown. </span>
  <em>
    <span>They really did replace me</span>
  </em>
  <span>.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>A metallic </span>
  <em>
    <span>clang</span>
  </em>
  <span>! interrupted Conner's thoughts. He looked up from the dough to find various pots and kitchen items floating through the air. Right, tactile telekinesis, Conner had that. He took a deep breath in, and felt his TTK spread throughout the room. Conner wasn't sure how to describe the telekinesis to other people; he'd had it for as long as he could remember. Conner could almost call it a pet; it seemed to have a mind of its own sometimes. Like right now, Conner slowly pulled his TTK back to him, careful not to drop anything.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>He took another deep breath, and let it out with a sigh. He felt the anger leave his body, and allowed himself to smile. <em>Alright, </em>Conner thought to himself, <em>just because they're in Gotham doesn't mean I have to talk to them.</em></span>
</p><p>
  <span>***</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Conner had finished his task relatively quickly. He stood in the kitchen, blanking on what to do. Should he take the register from Jason? He was the one that did the lion's share of baking. Conner looked around the kitchen, and an idea suddenly came to him. He gathered flour, salt, butter, and water. Jason might have done most of the baking, but Conner made the best pies.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>He took his time mixing the ingredients, it was much less satisfying when everything was done instantly. He grabbed a random baking dish and started to fold the crust into the pan, creasing the edges in triangular shapes as he went. Using a fork, Conner pricked holes into the bottom of the crust because <em>"No one likes a bubbly crust, dear</em>"<em>. </em>He carried the crust over to one of the many ovens in the kitchen, and <em>fuck, I didn't preheat it</em>. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Conner glanced over to the kitchen door to make sure no one could see, then fired off a quick burst of heat vision into the oven, just as a little jumpstart. He placed his hand on the middle rack to gauge the temperature and pulled it back out with a satisfied, "<em>Yes</em>!". He put the crust in, closed the oven door, and set the temperature to 375 "<em>The perfect temperature, dear, do you know how much desserts can bake at it?"</em></span>
</p><p>
  <span>Conner set a timer to remind himself, and walked off to the pantry for the rest of the ingredients. He placed a hand on the pantry shelf and reached out with his TTK; satisfied when he had found what he was looking for. He strode back to the table that he was working at, levitating a mass of items behind him.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>He set the items down in front of him, and set out to make the filling. Conner didn't need to look at instructions at this point, the recipe was practically burned into his mind. He grabbed an apple and checked its quality. Not as good as the ones that had been grown on the farm, but Jason didn't buy low quality ingredients. These would have to do. Conner sharpened his TTK into a knife-like shape, then began to cut the apples.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Conner finished the apples, and he threw them into a bowl with spices, sugar, and cider. He mixed them absentmindedly, and suddenly he was a little boy on a hot Kansas farm.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>"<em>Careful not to mix too fast dear, we don't want to beat the apples up too bad.</em>"</span>
</p><p>
  <span>"<em>Like this, grandma?</em>"</span>
</p><p>
  <span>"<em>Just like that, I think it's time for the secret ingredient now."</em></span>
</p><p>
  <span>
    <em>"Grandma you didn't put anything in there?"</em>
  </span>
</p><p>
  <span>
    <em>"That's the secret dear. We let them think that there's some special ingredient that makes it delicious, but really it's just pie. Any old recipe will do."</em>
  </span>
</p><p>
  <span>"<em>So there isn't a secret ingredient?"</em></span>
</p><p>
  <span>
    <em>"No dear, there isn't. Now why don't you go tell your daddy that the pie's almost done."</em>
  </span>
</p><p>
  <span>
    <em>"DADDY!-"</em>
  </span>
</p><p>The sound of his alarm going off broke Conner from his flashback. He missed Ma, he thought as he took the crust out of the oven. When Clark was off doing whatever it is he did, Conner always had Ma to teach him how to draw and make pies. Conner and his dad might've had super powers, but Martha Kent was super in the way that she loved with her entire being. It didn't matter that it was a terrible place, Martha just simply loved the world. She died while sleeping eight years ago.</p><p>Her passing had brought Conner and Clark closer together. They had spent the months after rarely apart from each other. <em>Look at us now</em>, Conner thought while taking the crust from the oven, <em>he replaced me with an entirely new child</em>.</p><p>"Holy shit," Conner jumped at Jason's voice, "it smells fucking <em>great</em> in here, roomie."</p><p>"A little warning next time would be appreciated, Jay," Conner whined, "but thanks, I'm making pie."</p><p>"You literally have super hearing, Conner, it's your fault if you can't hear me." Jason scuffed his heel for effect.</p><p>"You sound like Tim," Conner groaned, ignoring Jason's shout of offense, "just because I can hear practically everything doesn't mean I pay attention to it."</p><p>Jason scoffed, "Whatever, roomie, you should make pie more often, it smells great."</p><p>"Yeah, you can't eat it though, this is going on the specials board." The specials board was a revolving list of daily desserts that Jason or Conner had decided to make that day. It spanned anywhere from Conner's all American apple pie to Jason's more experimental mochi cake.</p><p>"No," Jason replied, "it's going in my stomach, finish it up so I can eat it."</p><p>"There's four hours left until we close and the pie still has to bake for another hour, you can have the leftovers."</p><p>"Whatevs roomie, let me know when you're done. You have inspired me to make apple fritters now."</p><p>"Jason get out of my kitchen."</p><p>"Our kitchen," Jason corrected</p><p>***</p><p>Conner had put the pie in the oven around an hour ago, and he had migrated to the front of the Red Emporium to sweep when the door chimed. Conner put on his customer service face and automatically smiled at the door, "Hi, welcome to the Red Emporium, we'll help you out in just a bit."</p><p>Conner's brain caught up with his mouth, and he dropped the broom in shock.</p><p>"You look like my daddy," Conner's little brother said.</p><p><em>Fuckfuckfuckfuckfuckfuckfuck</em>. "What makes you say that?" Conner asked, hoping that he was a good enough actor to fool a child.</p><p>It seemed to work because the kid answered his question without hesitation, "You both have the same hair, and you both wear glasses, and you have the same-"</p><p>"Jon!," Clark barged into the store, kneeling in front of his son, "we were looking for you! You can't just walk off like that, okay?"</p><p>Jon, and Conner would have to think about how he felt about that later, looked sheepish saying, "Sorry daddy, but there was a man that looked like you in here, so I had to go see him."</p><p>"A man that looked like me?" Clark asked. He slowly got up, and turned around to face Conner. </p><p>Conner desperately clung to his customer service smile repeating, "Hi, welcome to the Red Emporium, we'll help you out in just a bit!" As if the man in front of Conner hadn't raised him for eighteen years.</p><p>His dad's mouth dropped open in surprise, and he whispered, "Conner..."</p><p>The name seemed to ring something in Jon, he shouted in triumph, "THAT'S WHY YOU LOOK LIKE DADDY!" Conner was thankful that the shop was empty, he didn't want his patrons to see him drop kick a kid, "YOU'RE MY BIG BROTHER!" Jon took two steps to Conner, and Conner took one step back. The kid's excitement slipped off his face and was replaced by a small frown.</p><p>"Conner!" Jason called from the kitchen, "is everything okay out there!? Wait don't answer that, I'm coming out!" Conner heard Jason shuffle around in the kitchen before he walked up to the register. Jason's ocean colored eyes widened as he looked at the scene in front of him, "Oh," he said plainly.</p><p>"Conner, I think that your pie finished, why don't you go take it out of the oven, huh?" Conner had never been as thankful for Jason as he was in that moment. He hurried back into the kitchen, desperate to get away from the father and son duo in the front of the store. Conner's TTK lifted objects as he walked over to the pie in the oven. Bowls, whisks, spoons and spatulas vibrated dangerously in the air, and Conner was sure that any sort of surprise would send them flying.</p><p>Conner took a deep breath in and opened the door of the oven. The sweet smell of apple pie instantly filled his nose; it reminded him of summer days in Smallville and sitting on the porch drawing with Ma while they waited for the pie to finish baking. It calmed him. Conner focused his hearing, listening in on Jason and the other two Kents. Clark was making small talk with Jason while Jon flitted around the tables and chairs</p><p>"Apple pie," Clark read off the specials menu, "you know, Jason, my ma made a heavenly apple pie."</p><p>"I know, Clark," Conner could practically feel Jason roll his eyes, "but Conner makes the pies here though."</p><p>"Of course he does," his dad replied, "Ma wouldn't have it any other way. I think I'll take three slices if you will, Jason?</p><p>"For here or to go?"</p><p>"Two here, one to go for Lois. She'd kill me if I didn't bring her anything back."</p><p>Conner had already sliced the pie the second that Clark had read it off the menu; he knew that his father couldn't resist it. Plus, his kryptonian physiology would burn the extra calories no problem. He plated two of the slices, and put the other one in a to-go box. He breathed in and out, willing his TTK to calm down. He walked up to the register, and shoved the plates into Clark's hands, avoiding eye contact. Clark's brow furrowed; out of anger or sorrow, Conner couldn't tell.</p><p>"Conner," Jason chided, giving him a side eye, "that's not how we treat customers here."</p><p>"Right my bad, sorry Mr. Kent."</p><p>Clark flinched, looking decidedly un-super for a super man. "It's alright," Clark spoke, dusting himself off, "I deserved that."</p><p>Conner narrowed his eyes in fury about to speak, yell more than likely, but Jason beat him to it. "That'll be fifteen bucks, Clark."</p><p>"Just one second," Clark said taking four five dollar bills from his wallet. "Jon! Honey," Clark called out to his son, "come get a slice of pie!"</p><p>The little kid instantly appeared by his father's side at the mention of food. Clark gave Jason three of the fives, and put the fourth in the tip jar. The tip jar was a medium sized black vase decorated with logos of assorted superheroes that Conner had painted on it. Most of the Justice League was represented on the tip jar. Except one, which Clark voiced.</p><p>"No Superman?" he asked. <em>Oh, </em>Conner was going to enjoy this.</p><p>"He's not really big here in Gotham," Conner answered</p><p>"The entire Justice League is on that vase; Superman is a founding member."</p><p>"Are you saying that Superman is more important than other members of the league?"</p><p>Clark's brow furrowed again and he fixed his glasses; Jason watched with bemused interest, ready to intervene. "No, I'm saying that Superman is well known, why wouldn't he be on the tip jar?"</p><p>"I guess that he's not a favorite here among <em>certain</em> citizens of Gotham."</p><p>"Superboy's my favorite!" Jon piped before Clark could reply. Conner froze, his TTK started to constrict around him.</p><p>"Okay! Why don't you guys eat your pie before it gets cold!" Jason intervened, pulling Conner away from fragile objects. The half-kryptonian breathed in deeply, tapping once on Jason's arm. He was fine. Clark accepted Jason's invitation, and led Jon to a table in the corner. He fed Jon bits of the pie, and Conner stared with an odd mixture of anger and sadness; Clark had never done that with him.</p><p>Clark took a bite of his own slice, and groaned in pleasure; which <em>ewww</em> Conner didn't need to hear those sounds coming from his dad ever again. The two finished their pie rather quickly, and some part of Conner was elated that Clark enjoyed something that he had made. He kicked that part down.</p><p>"That tasted exactly like Ma's pie, Conner," Clark said, walking back up to the register.</p><p>"Yeah!" Jon agreed, "that was really good, Big Brother Conner!"</p><p>Conner ignored Jon entirely, he wasn't sure that he wouldn't shoot the kid with eye lasers, and he didn't remember being invincible at Jon's age. Instead he replied to Clark, "She did teach me how to make it."</p><p>"The secret ingredient too? Could you tell me what it is, Lois never gets it quite right."</p><p>"Can you teach me how to make it too, Big Brother Conner?"</p><p>Conner desperately wanted to tell his dad that there wasn't a secret, he was just thinking that the pie tasted better than it did. He didn't though; Ma would come back alive and skin him, super powers be damned.</p><p>"No and no, if I told you what it was it wouldn't be a secret anymore." Clark chuckled at Conner's answer, but Jon frowned, lacking his bright smile from earlier.</p><p>"I suppose you're right, Conner," Clark replied, "you'll just have to make every pie for us from now on."</p><p>Conner smiled despite himself, "I guess I will."</p><p> </p><p> </p><p> </p><p> </p><p> </p><p> </p><p> </p><p> </p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0005"><h2>5. Surprise!</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Summary for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
            <p>Conner has a chat with Tim, and wakes up to a surprise visitor</p>
          </blockquote><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>Sorry for the long-ish wait again, but here you guys go! I really appreciate your comments and all that stuff on this, so keep up with all that! I try my best to reply to everyone. Anyways, I hope you enjoy reading this chapter!<br/>TW: nothing common.</p></blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>Conner closed the bakery around six at night. Jason was lucky that Clark had been the only one to order the pie; he had gotten to eat three slices. In his words, "This is fucking delicious, roomie. Not as scrumptious as anything I can make, but still delicious." Conner had only rolled his eyes, he was taught by Martha Kent herself; his pie was totally better than Jason's muffins.</p><p>Thinking of the pie only circled his thoughts back to his dad. Clark had attacked it with a gusto, and some part deep down in Conner preened at the fact that his dad enjoyed something he made. He frowned at that; he didn't need Clark's approval for anything. But if he was going to be honest with himself, it was nice to know that he had it. However, Conner wasn't going to be honest with himself; he didn't care about Clark's opinions.</p><p>Conner walked aimlessly down the Gotham streets wondering why Clark was at the city in the first place. Right, <em>Tim</em>. The CEO of Wayne directly asked Conner's parents for help. Conner was going to have <em>words</em> with Tim. He listened for Tim's heartbeat first, it was a steady <em>thump-thump</em>, he was awake. Conner pulled out his latest Wayne Tech phone, given to him for free of course, and called Tim's number.</p><p>The phone rang for a bit, and Conner wondered what the other man was doing, he <em>knew</em> that Tim was awake. Conner was about to hang up when his phone picked up, "Conner! What can I do for you?"</p><p>Tim's cheery tone took Conner off guard. "I was just wondering when you were off, I need to talk to you."</p><p>If it was possible, Tim's voice became brighter, "I'm actually off right now! I'll meet you at Thairannosaurus Rex in a bit?"</p><p>Conner was still perplexed, but nonetheless he replied, "Yeah, that works for me, see you there, Timbo."</p><p>The kryptonian hung up the phone with a <em>click</em>. Conner's strides became purposeful; Thairannosaurus Rex wasn't that far from his current location. His thoughts centered around Jon as he walked. Conner was close with Pa Kent, the man was his grandfather of course; but he was always closer to Ma. Conner had spent most of his time on the farm in its kitchen: learning how to bake pies and make lemonade, but Pa had managed to take him out to ride horses and pick apples every once in a while.</p><p>Pa Kent was a great man, Conner didn't think that the kid could live up to him.</p><p>Conner's strides slowed down as he reached his destination. The neon dinosaur head lit up the February dusk, proudly displaying the words Thairannosaurus Rex in a font that reminded Conner of the streetfighter games. He opened the door of the restaurant and breathed in the array of spices. Thairannosaurus opened when Conner had first... moved to Gotham and along with the bakery, had become one of Conner's favorite places in the city.</p><p>"Conner!" a youthful voice smiled from the front of the store, "no boyfriend today?"</p><p>Conner rolled his eyes, "Tim's not my boyfriend, Asnee," he told the young man, "but he's on his way."</p><p>"You knew who I was talking about though," Asnee laughed, "come on, you can have the usual table."</p><p>Conner followed Asnee to the back of the building, taking in the reds and gold lanterns that adorned the walls.</p><p>"Where's Aom?" Conner asked the shorter man.</p><p>"Mæ is cooking at home, the new year is coming soon."</p><p>"What animal is it this year?"</p><p>"Year of the Tiger," Asnee stopped at a plain table, "which reminds me to ask you, would you mind painting a piece to display in the front? We'll pay of course."</p><p>"Of course I'll do it! You don't have to pay at all, I'll do it for free."</p><p>"Mæ would have my head, we'll pay."</p><p>"Pay for what?" Conner smiled at the sound of Tim's voice.</p><p>"Your boyfriend is painting something for the Lunar New Year." </p><p>"Neat. It's Year of the Tiger, right? That's our year, Conner." Conner inwardly guffawed at Tim's non-response to Asnee's words. Tim didn't mind the idea of them dating? If Conner thought about it, he wouldn't mind dating Tim if he was a chick. Tim was smart and sarcastic, any girl would be lucky to snatch him up. The thought of someone dating Tim made Conner feel funny, so like with every other feeling that Conner didn't understand: he ignored it.</p><p>"Alright, alright, you two boys sit down," Asnee spoke with an aura of relaxation and a hand wave to match, "I'll be back in a bit with your usuals." Conner blinked. He just missed an entire conversation because he was thinking about... Tim. Whoops. Tim gave him a friendly punch on the arm, and Conner obeyed the waiter's order.</p><p>"Thanks, Nee," Tim spoke for them, "you're the best." The Asian man gave a salute as thanks and walked off, presumably, to the kitchen. Conner tapped his fingers on table, stretching his TTK over the brown oak slab and back to his hand again. Conner called Tim to chew him out about bringing his Dad over to Gotham, but he wasn't sure how he was going to start that conversation.</p><p>Luckily, it was Tim who spoke first, "You called me at the perfect time, Dick was asking me about Jason again."</p><p>Conner nodded, that's what Tim's unusual chipper tone was about. "What was he asking you?" </p><p>Tim rubbed his eyes, "The usual, you know, how Jason's doing and all of that," Tim sighed, "I told him that he could just drop by the bakery and ask Jason himself. He won't though; Dick thinks that if he shows up that you'll <em>glare</em> him to death."</p><p>"The one person that I would <em>glare</em> to death showed up at the bakery today," Conner snorted, "I called him Mr. Kent and gave him three slices of pie."</p><p>Tim leaned on his elbows and looked at Conner with interest, "Clark stopped by the bakery?"</p><p>"Yeah, little <em>Jon</em> wandered off and Dad found him there."</p><p>"Hey," Tim reached over to grab Conner's arm, "don't talk about him like that. I still remember how Jason treated me; you don't want to put a literal child through that, Conner."</p><p>"Jason tried to murder you. Multiple times."</p><p>"We got over that. It doesn't matter though; neglect is still abuse."</p><p>"I'm not <em>neglecting</em> the kid, Tim. I don't even know him!" Conner thought back to Jon's frown when he said that he wouldn't teach him. Conner didn't have any obligation to the six year-old, even if they were related.</p><p>Tim leaned back up and looked Conner in the eyes, "But he knows you. Clark's clearly told him stories about you, and he adores you in some way; the least you can do is try."</p><p>Conner didn't get the opportunity to reply, Asnee came out of the kitchen with drinks. "Alright, a lemonade for the C-Man and a thai iced tea for Timmers! Food should be out in a bit, guys."</p><p>Conner voiced his gratitude to the waiter, and immediately started to take a swig from his lemonade. Tim noticed the aversion and rolled his eyes, "Real mature, Conner."</p><p>The kryptonian smiled around his straw and flipped Tim the finger. "Thanks, I try to be. I know you told me, but why are my parents here in the first place?"</p><p>"Subtle change in topic, Conner. But to answer your question," Tim dropped his voice, "Bruce thinks that it has something to do with our <em>side job</em>"</p><p>Conner started to shut down at the mention of superheroing. "Oh," he said with disinterest, "must be important then. Good luck with that."</p><p>"Conner..." Tim spoke, "you were on the monorail. You saw how those people reacted."</p><p>"I did, but I don't do that kind of stuff anymore, not after last time."</p><p>Tim's blue gaze softened, "That wasn't your fault, Conner. You still have a spot on the team."</p><p>"No."</p><p>"Bart and Cassie miss you."</p><p>"Then they can come out here and visit like normal people, the answer's still no."</p><p>"Conner we could use your help, I don't think you understand how much-"</p><p>Conner stood up from the table abruptly, his chair dragging along the floor with a <em>SKREECH!</em> "I understand exactly how much help you could get. Good thing you already called my dad. ASNEE!" Conner shouted to the restaurant's storefront, "I'LL BE TAKING MY FOOD TO GO!"</p><p>He pulled his flannel tightly around him and adjusted his glasses, walking away from Tim.</p><p>"Conner, wait!" Tim stood up from the table too, "can we just... talk" But Conner was already gone.</p><p>***</p><p>Conner woke up the next morning feeling considerably more calm than he was at the restaurant. He stretched in his bed, yawning as he sat up. He'd have to call Tim later to apologize, Conner'd been dickish to him. He flipped his legs out of bed first, then got up to shower. As much as Jason complained about it, Conner would forever be grateful that Bruce bought this apartment for them. He had his own bathroom! Conner never had that in the Metropolis shoebox that he grew up in.</p><p>Conner grabbed a random towel and made his way to the bathroom, stripping from his pajamas as he went. He plugged his phone into the audio system that Tim had set up and opened his shower playlist. Conner stepped into the white marble shower with Taylor Swift's voice filling the silence. The steady <em>pshhhh</em> of the water soon joined in. He tapped the touchscreen on the shower wall, <em>because fancy rich people showers have those</em>, and turned the temperature up to a heat that would more than likely burn a normal human.</p><p>He squirted a glob of conditioner into his hands and began to idly rub it into his hair, humming along to the music as he went. Conner's indie curls had to be taken care of after all. Satisfied with the conditioner in his hair, Conner started to wash down with shower gel. Much to Tim's chagrin, Jason had managed to convince Conner to invest in Old Spice; never again would Conner touch a bottle of Axe.</p><p>Conner finished washing himself, and started to clean the conditioner out of his hair. Taylor Swift was still singing, and Conner joined in, shouting, "THIS IS ME PRAYING THAT-"</p><p>His impromptu concert was cut off at the sound of the doorbell ringing. Conner shut the water off and jumped out of the shower with a curse. Tim must've come over to apologize about last night too. Conner dried his hair and wrapped his towel around his waist, making his way to the front door. The doorbell rang again, and Conner opened the door expecting to see Tim's face. Looking side to side in confusion, Conner didn't see anyone and was about to close the door when he glanced down.</p><p>Jon Kent was looking up at him with a sunlit grin and a sparkly Superman backpack in his hands. "Morning, Big Brother Conner!" the kid shouted. Conner blinked. He decided that he was still asleep and was about to shut the door on Jon. Except there was no way he was dreaming because that was his mother coming up behind Jon. This wasn't a dream; this was a nightmare.</p><p>"Conner," Lois said, failing to stop her laughter, "nice to see... you."</p><p>It occurred to the kryptonian that he wasn't wearing anything but a towel. Heat rose to his cheeks and he mumbled, "Yeah, it's been a while," he looked down at Jon again, "a lot has changed."</p><p>Lois didn't acknowledge the dig towards her and replied, "It's been a couple years. Mind if we come in? We'll let you get dressed of course." She didn't wait for Conner's reply, and steamrolled right past him in typical Lois Lane fashion, guiding Jon by the shoulder.</p><p>Conner followed after the two, water droplets falling to the ground as he went. "Make yourselves, comfortable," Conner snarked, "I'll be back in a bit." Lois gave him a polite nod and Jon a bright grin. Did that kid ever stop smiling? It was like he had taken a canister of Joker gas right to the face, only without the maniacal laughter. Conner got to his closet quickly, and started to pull out one of the "non-designer" flannels that Tim had gotten for, he realized that he didn't have work halfway through.</p><p><em>Right, well mom changed my diapers and Jon's a kid, I don't have to dress up for them.</em> He instead pulled on a pair of sweatpants and a stained shirt from Jason that had been mixed up in the laundry. Conner listened in to the living room before opening the door. Lois had turned on the news for herself and Jon was playing with toys on the floor. Conner took a deep breath, he could do this. They were only his formerly estranged mother and his stranger of a kid brother.</p><p> He made it to the living room quickly, much to his disappointment. "Don't you ever get tired of the news? It's practically your entire life?" Conner asked the journalist.</p><p>Lois turned to face Conner, "The Daily Planet is really only fifty percent of my life, sweetheart," she corrected, "the Gotham Gazette isn't news, it's competition. Do you know what I do in competitions?"</p><p>Conner had heard this spiel hundreds of times before, "You win," he sighed.</p><p>"That's right; I win. Did you hear that, Jonno? Mommy always wins."</p><p>"Mommy always wins!" the little boy parroted. If it was any other mother and son Conner would've found the exchange adorable. Except it was his mother and Jon, which tainted it for the older boy.</p><p>"What's this 'competition' about then?"</p><p>"Finding out the origin of the monorail bombing, which Clark told me you were in the attacked train. Do you know how worried I was, young man?"</p><p>"I'm invulnerable."</p><p>"I was worried on principle, why didn't you call me?"</p><p>Conner reigned in his anger, Lois didn't deserve it. He answered her question with a question, "Why didn't you tell me that you had another kid?"</p><p>Lois' concerned look only grew, she glanced at Jon before speaking to Conner, "We tried to, but Jon was born eight months after the... incident, you never answered any of our calls. Relationships are two way streets Conner, you can't expect us to talk to you if you never answer."</p><p>"But-" Lois held up a hand, and Conner stopped immediately, the instinct drilled into him since childhood.</p><p>"I've given you too much space and I've come to realize that if you won't willingly talk to us, you'll have to do it unwillingly. Starting today, you will be watching Jon everyday of the week."</p><p>"But mom!-" The title slipped out of Conner's mouth without him realizing it. </p><p>Lois stopped him from speaking, "We can't take Jon with us into shady Gotham buildings, Conner. Clark wanted to hire a babysitter, but I suggested this instead. You get to bond with your brother, isn't that right, Jon?"</p><p>The kid looked up from his toys and smiled at Conner and Lois in answer.</p><p>***</p><p>Lois had left Jon with Conner about an hour ago, and the only words that Conner had spoken to the kid were, "Don't break anything." After that, Conner had closed himself into his room and had attempted to work on the painting for Asnee and his restaurant. He was not hiding from a six year-old. He wasn't. Conner groaned as he set down his brush. In the Chinese Zodiac, the tiger symbolized leadership and justice, the only thing that Conner could think of was Superman. No matter how uninspired he was, Conner would never draw from his father as inspiration. At least not knowingly, he thought as he remembered his museum drawing.</p><p>Conner wondered what had even happened to that drawing; Jason probably put it somewhere and forgot to tell him. Conner dipped his brush into red paint again, but a knock on the door interrupted him. Conner could feel the headache that Jon was about to cause, but at least he knocked.</p><p>"Big Brother Conner!" he shouted, "I'm hungry!" Fuck. Why did Lois do this to him.</p><p>"Your mom didn't feed you?" Conner shouted back.</p><p>"No! Mommy can't cook and daddy wasn't there," Conner stomped over to the door while Jon was speaking, "plus mommy says that fast food is bad for you!"</p><p>Conner rolled his eyes. Typical Lois, making Clark do all of the dirty work for her. He swung open the door and looked down at Jon, "What do you want to eat?" he asked, hoping that the kid would make his life easy and say something simple, like a sandwhich.</p><p>"I don't know!" Jon smiled. Conner stifled a groan and brushed passed Jon, heading to the kitchen. The <em>pitpat</em> of footsteps signaling that Jon was following him. He checked the time, <em>nine sharp, not too late for pancakes</em>. Conner turned around and looked down at Jon, "Do you like pancakes?" he asked the boy.</p><p>"YES!" Jon cheered, jumping up and down.</p><p>"Great because that's what we're having for breakfast."</p><p>"Can you make them Superman shaped with chocolate chips? That's how daddy does it."</p><p>Conner started to grab the ingredients for chocolate chip pancakes, "I can add chocolate chips, but I don't have the right cutter for Superman shapes."</p><p>"That's okay! Do you wanna hear a joke?" Conner was already making Jon pancakes, and now he had to listen to his stupid jokes too? He calmed himself down; Tim had told him to try.</p><p>"Sure!" he answered with false cheer, adding ingredients to a bowl.</p><p>"When will the little snake arrive?"</p><p>Oh geez. "When?"</p><p>"I don't know, but he won't be long!" Jon guffawed, laughing from his spot at the kitchen table.</p><p>Conner forced himself to laugh, why were kids unfunny? Actually, Eric from the bakery was a funny kid. Maybe it was just a Jon thing.</p><p>"Wanna hear another one?" Jon asked, but didn't wait for an answer, "Why did the man get fired from the coin factory?"</p><p>Conner sighed while mixing the batter, "He stopped making cents."</p><p>"HE STOPPED MAKING SENSE!" Jon laughed. He kept telling Conner more kiddy jokes as Conner stirred the pancakes. Conner just tuned them out, offering the occasional fake laugh, there was only so much he could take. Jon eventually stopped telling jokes and started blabbing about his time in Gotham so far. From his trip to the museum with the cool bats to the Red Emporium that had Conner made the best pie ever in to the apartment that they were staying in, which reminded Jon of home.</p><p>Conner wished that the kid would just shut up and let him make the damn pancakes in peace. The older Kent grabbed one of Jason's fancy griddles from the shelf above the stove, and heated it with a casual burst of heat vision. Jason had paid for a fancy element stove top because it "preheats so much faster than gas, Conner. Stop living in the past," but Conner never used it because he was an alien hybrid with eye lasers.</p><p>"THAT WAS SO AWESOME!" Jon shouted from the table, "daddy says that I'm gonna do that too, once I grow up, of course!" The little kid sped over to the stove and stood by Conner, "Do it again!" Right, Jon was only used to Clark's display of casual superpowers.</p><p>He took back what he thought about Lois earlier, she deserved some anger for putting him through this. "No," Conner stated, "the pan's already hot." He grabbed a bottle of cooking spray and slicked the griddle, pouring batter onto it.</p><p>Jon's elation deflated for a moment, but he suddenly sprung back up again, "Look what I can do!" Conner turned away from the stove, and watched as Jon's eyes started to glow a dull red. He panicked, internally, and rushed to cover the boy's eyes with his hands. Jon said earlier that he couldn't shoot lasers yet, but Conner had firsthand experience with unexpected development of superpowers. Sometimes he still got headaches from hitting that tree.</p><p>"Hey! I wasn't done yet," Jon complained as Conner moved him back to the table.</p><p>"Heat vision is dangerous," Conner replied.</p><p>"But you just used it on the pan! And I can't even shoot lasers yet!" Jon ranted in his seat, crossing his skinny arms over his chest. <em>He's definitely related to Lois Lane</em>, Conner thought.</p><p>"I'm older than you."</p><p>"But-"</p><p>Conner raised his hand, channeling his inner Lois Lane too, "Do you want pancakes or not?"</p><p>"Yes," Jon sagged.</p><p>"Then stay at the table and <em>don't</em> use developing superpowers."</p><p>"Okay, <em>dad</em>," Jon stuck his tongue out. Conner replied to that with an eye roll. He refused to be compared to Clark. He walked back to the stove, and scraped off the first pancake; it had burnt while he had been distracted by Jon. He poured batter onto the griddle, and heard the sizzle of the heat.</p><p>"Did you like it?" Jon asked from the table.</p><p>"Like what?"</p><p>"My trick, sillyhead!"</p><p>Conner thought back to Jon's glowing eyes, as much as he hated to admit it, heat vision was cool as fuck, no matter who's eyes it came from. "Yeah, it was pretty cool, little dude." Conner told Jon, shaping the batter into a diamond shape with his TTK. Jon cheered from the table, as Conner finished the pancake. He drizzled an "S" on top of it with syrup, and walked over to Jon.</p><p>"Eat up," he grunted.</p><p>Jon's eyes widened as he saw the food, "It's Superman shaped!" he shouted in delight, "you're the best, Big Brother Conner!"</p><p>What did he just get himself into? Conner blamed Lois.</p><p> </p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0006"><h2>6. Of Thai Food and Scary Movies</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Summary for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
            <p>Conner continues to hang with Jon, and ends the night with a wonderful family dinner.</p>
          </blockquote><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>Here's the next chapter, thanks for waiting! There was a comment last chapter about Lois' behavior, but it's part of the story right now. Here you can see the tension between her and Conner building, it's on purpose. Anyways, we get some information about Conner's childhood and more on his feelings towards Jon. Please let me know if there's any errors here, this story is unbeta'd!<br/>TW: Nothing Common</p></blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>Conner had moved his work space from his room into the living room. The room was spacious for an apartment, and Conner had set up on a desk that sat in the upper left corner of the room. Jason would more than likely complain about the mess later, but Conner was used to his roommate's nagging. For such a brash personality, Jason had quite a penchant for cleanliness; Conner couldn't care less, he'd spent plenty of his childhood home alone, and Clark was too busy to clean his son's messes most of the time.</p><p>Conner tidied his sketchbooks and pencils into a neat pile; he wasn't going to get anything done at the moment. He turned around in the desk chair to look at Jon. He still wasn't sure how he felt about the kid. In the short time that he had spent with Jon, Conner had been able to pick up on the boy's positive personality rather quickly. Little Jon Kent practically exuded happiness, it was easy for Conner to picture rainbows following Jon's path.</p><p>The older Kent found that he couldn't be angry at the kid himself; Jon was too much of a sweetheart for that. Instead, Conner hated the idea of Jon. Growing up, Conner never really got attention from Clark or Lois. Sure, there were the mandatory superpower lessons, sometimes even the occasional trip to the park, but Conner's parents were always too busy to do normal family activities with him. Both of them working as investigative journalists with odd hours, and Clark as the literal beacon of hope: Superman.</p><p>Clearly they had learned from their mistakes with Conner. Jon was the do-over to Conner's fuckup. Clark had never done anything as close to hand-feeding Conner pie like he did with Jon. His father always seemed like he was at arms distance, around, but not enough. Jon, on the other hand, didn't have that problem. Clark made Superman shaped pancakes for him because that's what parents did for their kids in the mornings. Unless that kid was Conner, then they were rushed to the school bus and told to get cereal from the cafeteria because "<em>I'm almost late for work, Conner, there isn't time for pancakes"</em>.</p><p>An ugly green started to spread throughout Conner's body. Distantly, he realized that it was directed to Jon. Jon who had noticed Conner's staring and was smiling directly at him. Jon's smile was toothy and used his entire face, from his eyes to his chin. Conner's meek grin back paled in comparison. Jon spoke to him, but Conner wasn't anywhere near paying attention.</p><p>Conner shook himself out of his stupor, "Huh?" he asked.</p><p>Jon rolled his eyes at the older Kent, "I asked if you wanted to play" he drew out the last word, "look I have Hot Wheels!" Jon emphasized his last words by holding up a red toy truck and a purple car.</p><p>Conner did not want to play cars with Jon. He could think of a million other things he'd rather do. "No, I have work," Conner dismissed.</p><p>"But you can be Krypton?" Jon offered, holding up the red truck, "it's my favorite."</p><p>"Still no."</p><p>"But cars is really funner with tw-" How many times did he have to turn this kid down?</p><p>"Look," Conner interrupted, "I'm really busy with work right now. Maybe later, okay?"</p><p>Jon deemed that an acceptable answer because he smiled in response, "Okay! I'll wait!"</p><p>Conner's break from Jon lasted a total of ten seconds before the kid asked, "When are you going to work?"</p><p>"I'm <em>trying</em> to work right now," was the older's irritated response.</p><p>"But I went to your work! I remember cus me and daddy got really good pie!"</p><p>Conner pinched the bridge of his nose and turned around to face the younger boy. "The bakery is one of my jobs. This," Conner waved to the art materials scattered around his desk, "is my other one."</p><p>Conner's explanation only seemed to make the younger more confused. Jon eyed the sketchbooks piled on the desk and the pencil in his brother's hand. "But you're... drawing?" he asked.</p><p>"That's my other job," Conner confirmed.</p><p>Jon's eyes widened as he was struck by an epiphany, "YOU CAN MAKE MONEY FROM DRAWING!" he ran over to Conner, pressing himself against Conner's side, "can I see you drawings?"</p><p>Conner gently pushed the kid away from him, Jon was far too close at the moment. However, Conner was grateful that Jon had given him an out for the conversation. He handed a random sketchbook over to Jon with instructions not to tear any of the pages out. The kid smiled and flopped to ground by Conner, sketchbook in hand, sitting criss-cross applesauce. Conner wondered why Jon didn't go to the couch, but found that he didn't care. At least the kid was quiet.</p><p>The only sounds that filled the apartment were that of breathing and the soft <em>schwick</em> of Jon flipping pages. And also everything else that made noise in Gotham, but Conner had learned to tune unwanted sounds out years ago. It had been one of his first lessons with Clark. Soon enough, the sharp <em>tchit</em> of Conner's pencil on paper started to fill the apartment as Conner began to sketch the outline of a tiger; jumping horizontally outwards.</p><p>Conner was able to get twenty minutes of blissful silence from Jon before the younger kid spoke up again. "Big Brother Conner," Conner inwardly groaned at the nickname and prepared himself to answer the boy's inevitable question, "what's this?" Conner looked down at the drawing that Jon was holding up to him. Whatever answer that Conner had prepared died on his tongue once he recognized what Jon was showing him.</p><p>The House of El's symbol stared at him, painted across a red backdrop that split the blue sides sides of the suit in geometric shapes. A billowing red half cape fell around the figures boots, the same vibrant red that all of the Supers wore. Conner's brain started working again and he answered, "That's an old... design for a Superboy suit."</p><p>Jon's eyes bugged out of his head, "But none of my Superboy toys have this suit!" Conner glossed over the fact that Jon had toys of him; he had signed a royalty contract at age fourteen much to his mother and father's disapproval; although Lois disapproved because Conner would only be getting thirty percent of the cut.</p><p>"That's because I never got to wear it," Conner muttered.</p><p> Jon dropped the sketchbook as he jumped up, asking, "Is it real? Can I see it?"</p><p>"No," Conner lied, "that suit's only a design. It was never made." In reality, the suit was made from some magical kryptonian fiber that Conner hadn't bothered to care about; Tim would probably be able to explain its properties better than Conner could. He remembered designing the suit with Clark after Bart had knocked the leather jacket one too many times. Conner shuddered thinking of his old look, the jacket was passable, but the <em>haircut</em>. Why didn't Tim tell him that he looked ridiculous.</p><p>Designing the suit had been one of his fondest memories with Clark. Unfortunately, the suit itself had been tainted by the events that immediately followed. It'd been sitting in a box deep in Conner's closet, a constant reminder of what had happened that night at the Fortress.</p><p>"Aww, it looks so cool though," Jon let slip, "when I grow up I want one just like it!"</p><p>Conner thought back to that night: the screams, the shouts, and the whimpers. He remembered ruby red eyes and the feeling of burning, all-consuming anger. And then the feeling of hopelessness and shock. "Trust me, kid," Conner spoke, "when you grow up, you won't want anything like <em>that</em>."</p><p>***</p><p> Conner hadn't progressed much on his commission for Thai Rex. He had taken a break in the afternoon to make various phone calls to his clients at the bakery, booking and rescheduling meetings. The bride that Conner was supposed to meet on Wednesday, Emilia, hadn't been happy that her meeting was postponed again. Under normal circumstances, Conner wouldn't've let the bride's harsh tone get to him, except Jon was blathering in the background. The kid didn't seem to understand the concept of quiet.</p><p>For lunch, Conner reheated his leftovers from last night. There was enough for two, as Conner had been too angry at Tim to eat. He split the yellow curry into roughly equal portions, and handed the other bowl over to Jon. The boy sniffed at the curry curiously, "What's this?" he asked.</p><p>"Curry. Eat it." the older replied.</p><p>"But what's curry?" Why did this kid always have to question everything? Could he not just eat it?</p><p>"Food. Just eat it." Conner demonstrated by spooning rice and beef into his mouth. </p><p>Jon poked around the dish with his spoon, hesitant to try the foreign food, "Can I have a cheeseburger instead?"</p><p>Conner could've yelled with frustration, "Just <em>eat it</em>," he seethed while motioning to the curry, "there's meat in it."</p><p>He pushed Jon's bowl towards him with a light force of TTK, and the kid thankfully took the hint. He tentatively took a spoonful of curry, looking at Conner before he ate it. It occurred to the older that Jon was looking to <em>him</em> for confirmation, and he forced a smile. Jon took the bite, and his eyes widened in surprise. He dug into the rest of the curry eagerly, much to Conner's relief. He started to eat his own curry, working at a much slower pace than Jon was.</p><p>The kid finished quickly, burping when he was done. Conner finished soon after, and stood up from the marble table that sat in the kitchen. He took Jon's empty bowl and stacked it on top of his own, making his way to the sink. Jon hopped out of his chair, and the <em>pitpat</em> of footsteps signaled that he was following Conner. The older Kent stopped in front of the faucet, and he could sense Jon rocking on his toes; he had another question for Conner.</p><p>"What?" Conner turned around and spoke to Jon.</p><p>"'member when I asked to play cars," and Conner did; he didn't want to then and he sure as hell didn't want to now, "well, it's later now, so can we play cars?"</p><p>Conner turned back around to face the sink, "I'm doing the dishes now," he spoke.</p><p>"Does that mean we can play later?"</p><p>No, it certainly did not. Conner wasn't going to tell the kid that though, and grunted in answer. Evidently, it was good enough for Jon, and the kid presumably walked off to the living room. Conner allowed his shoulders to drop, reveling in the tension that left his body. Jon had that effect on Conner. The older tried his best to not snap at the kid. But it was difficult to view him as Jon the little kid rather than Jon, Clark and Lois' replacement kid.</p><p>He turned on the faucet with a brush of TTK. Now wasn't the time to think about Jon; it was time to do dishes. Conner levitated the dirty bowls while he cleaned them with a sponge in one hand. Cleaning dishes was simple, thoughtless work. Conner appreciated the break from reality that the job gave him. He finished far too quickly, and dried his hands off with a sigh. Time to return to reality.</p><p>He slid open the door that connected the kitchen and living room together, expecting to see Jon pushing plastic cars around. Instead, the kid was passed out on the couch, drool leaking onto Jason's precious fabrics. <em>Well, that makes my job a lot easier</em>, Conner thought. He walked through the living room, careful not to wake a sleeping Jon. Conner slipped back into his bedroom and grabbed an old blanket from his closet. Ha made his way back to the sofa, laying the red blanket over Jon.</p><p>Conner sat down on the opposite end of the couch, deciding to watch Netflix. He wasn't going to finish any more of Asnee's commission today, and Jon wouldn't be interrupting him, so why not? He turned the volume practically silent, and started some random horror movie that involved demons and a possessed doll, original. He wasn't phased by the movie; Conner had faced down <em>actual</em> demons before among other things.</p><p>Conner was too engrossed in the movie to recognize Jon waking up. Jon screamed when the doll jumped out of the closet, mauling the priest that was called to exorcise it. Conner jumped at Jon's scream, on the alert, "What's wrong, kid?" he asked, forgetting that the kid was asleep just moments before.</p><p>Jon pulled the blanket over his face, "The d-doll," he stammered, "it's scary!"</p><p>Oh, he had woken up during the movie. Conner's alertness faded away and he muttered, "Kid, it's just a movie."</p><p>"But it's scary!"</p><p>"You don't have to watch it."</p><p>Jon poked the top of his head out from under the blanket and furrowed his brow at Conner, "No, you're watching it, so I will too!"</p><p>"I can put on a different movie," Conner snorted.</p><p>"NO!" Jon made an exaggeration of pointing his head straight at the television, where the concerned family had just discovered the priest's body, he blanched, "I'm watching this now!" Conner didn't care enough to argue at that point. If the kid wanted to have nightmares, Conner wasn't going to stop him. Conner turned his attention back to the movie, watching with vague interest as the family discussed how to exorcise the demon now. <em>Zatanna would've finished this already</em>, he thought.</p><p>The movie passed sluggishly along, and Jon held out until the next time the doll attacked. The movie dad turned into a face full of demonic doll claws, Conner felt no remorse; it was horror movie rule number one to always check corners. Jon, on the other hand, didn't know that rule, and let out a high pitched <em>eeeep!</em> as he jumped onto Conner, burying his face in the older's shoulder.</p><p>Conner rolled his eyes, but didn't push the boy away. He finished the movie with Jon still cuddled into his side.</p><p>***</p><p>The day steadily turned to night, and Conner had passed the time by watching movies. It was a stroke of genius by Conner, as it entertained Jon while simultaneously keeping the kid quiet. He didn't put on anymore horror movies after the last one; Conner had had enough cuddling with Jon for the day. Instead, Conner had settled on playing Disney movies; mindless things that he didn't have to pay attention to.</p><p>Jon was the complete opposite. He leaned forward on the couch, staring intently as Simba the Lion paraded around, chanting about how he couldn't wait to be king. Jon sung with the little lion, and Conner couldn't help but see the comparison. Clark was the Superman to Mufasa's king; and, just like Simba, Jon couldn't wait to become Superman. Conner thought that the kid was dumb for wanting to become Superman. Superheroing wasn't worth it. Conner would know.</p><p>Although, it was disingenuous to pretend that he didn't have good memories when he had donned the "S". Racing with Bart, arm wrestling with Cassie, and many other fond memories of the past. Most of which included Tim in some way or another. Bringing the insomniac coffee in the morning after he had forgotten to sleep. Tim teaching him chemistry in the tower's common room far better than Mr. Zacksburg ever could. And late night Mario Kart races in Tim's room.</p><p>Yeah, there was a lot of good that had happened during Conner's tenure as a hero. But he had lived that life already. </p><p>"Big Brother Conner!" Jon whined that annoying nickname that he had given Conner, "Can you make popcorn?" Conner blinked. Right, Jon was here. The older Kent stood up from the sofa with a stretch, popping his neck. Conner made his way over to the kitchen, debating if he should give Jon some of Jason's "fancy" popcorn. Conner had insisted that it was only fifteen dollar knock-off movie popcorn, but Jason wouldn't budge. The kryptonian suspected that it had something to do with Jason's life before Bruce had adopted him.</p><p>He flipped open the door to the pantry, which resided left of the stove, and reached in with his TTK. He pulled out a box, and cursed when he saw that it was the wrong one. As great as his TTK was, he could only sense shape and weight, not color. He tossed the box of poptarts back in, straightening the landing with TTK. He reached in again, pleased with himself once he got the right box. He tore the plastic off of one of the bags, and shot a quick burst of heat vision onto the bag.</p><p>Heat vision couldn't bake because baking required consistent exposure to heat, of which the lasers were too hot. But it worked perfectly for popcorn, as the kernels only needed a short burst of heat. Tim had explained it once, something to do with the foil on the bottom of the bag. Conner didn't really care about the science of his powers, he just used them. The kernels started popping, and Conner mindlessly levitated a bowl down from the cabinet above the sink.</p><p>He tore open the bang and shook it into the bowl, wiping the fake butter off his hands once done. Jason was so weird, he complained about messes all the time yet he ate this greasy mess. Conner carried the bowl into the living room, where Simba had been caught by the bird that seriously reminded him of Dick, constant nagging and all. The older silently handed the bowl of buttery trash over to Jon, who accepted it without a word. <em>God forbid some random noise interrupt his movie time, </em>Conner thought.</p><p>Conner mentally checked out once Mufasa had been trampled. He much preferred horror to any other genre: Sure, he wasn't actually scared, but those movie directors were masters of suspense. He mindlessly reached into the bowl of popcorn and threw a couple of kernels into his mouth. Conner checked the time, 8:00 at night. He would have to cook dinner soon. The late time also brought up another question, which he voiced to Jon, "Kid," the boy shushed him immediately, but Conner continued anyways, "what time are your parents coming to get you?"</p><p>"Dunno," Jon huffed, "but can you be quiet? I'm watching a movie." Oh the irony of Jon telling him that. Jon hadn't cared about silence when Conner had been trying to work earlier. Conner hmmmed at Jon's answer, and settled back to watch the rest of the Lion King. Simba had just rediscovered Nala, how interesting. Midway through the song about lion love, Conner's phone pinged with a text. Jon glared at the intrusion, "Phones aren't allowed in movie theaters," he recited.</p><p>"This is an apartment," was Conner's condescending reply. Jon stuck his tongue out, but Conner was looking down at his phone.</p><p>Annoyance: <em>won't be home 2night. timbo has me doing slave labor.</em></p><p>Conner replied: <em>k, i'm watching the kid anyways, u would be a bad influence</em></p><p>Jason texted back instantly; Annoyance: <em>tbh i would be. play nice.</em></p><p>
  <em>i made him superman shaped pancakes smh. i'm being nicer than i have to be.</em>
</p><p>Annoyance: <em>whatevs roomie. c u tmrw. </em></p><p>Conner left him on read because he was feeling petty and he knew it would annoy Jason. He was proven correct when Jason texted him two minutes later: <em>wtf fuck say it back</em></p><p>Annoyance: <em>connnnner say it back</em></p><p>Annoyance: <em>say it back shithead </em></p><p>Annoyance: <em>fuck u </em></p><p>
  <em>c u tmrw. luv u</em>
</p><p>Annoyance: <em>&lt;3</em></p><p>"Are you done?" Jon scoffed, "you missed Nala trying to get Simba back to Pride Rock." That sounded an awful lot like how Tim had invited him back to Young Justice earlier; Conner didn't need to watch an animated version of it.</p><p>"Shhh, we're watching a movie," was his response. The little kid didn't reply to that, and directed his attention back to the movie. Conner spaced out again, he'd been watching the Lion King since he was born. Instead, he wondered what Jason and the rest of the bats were investigating. From what Tim had told him on Thursday, Conner knew that they didn't have much to go off from the original bombing. Conner had only been able to tell him that the attacker's voice was male and that he was of an older age.</p><p>Conner had faith though, Tim <em>and</em> Bruce were working on the case, it would get solved in no time. It was during Simba's battle with Scar that the doorbell rang. Jon groaned at another possible interruption, and Conner almost did too once he x-rayed through the door to see Lois and Clark. At least they had the decency to bring food. The temptation of carbs motivated Conner to get up off the couch. He practiced his fake smile, fully aware that Clark was probably x-raying into the house, and opened the door.</p><p>"Hi," his father said, "we brought food. Mind if we come in?"</p><p>Conner did in fact mind very much, but he could smell cheeseburgers coming from the bags in Lois' hands so he moved out the way and motioned them through the door. Lois navigated her way to the kitchen, and Conner could her hear her rummaging around for forks and knives. "They're in the drawer under the island!" he called out to her. </p><p>"Thanks, sweetie!" she called back. Conner didn't reply with a "you're welcome" because none of them were welcome, and he'd appreciate it if they left, really. He didn't voice that though because one: he didn't want to have an argument right now and two: he was certain that Lois already knew that and she just didn't care.</p><p>Meanwhile, Jon had registered Clark's appearance, and had jumped into his father's arms with a shouted, "Daddy!" Clark was ruffling the boy's hair and doing generally cute parent things. Conner was <em>not</em> jealous. He wasn't.</p><p>"How was your day, honey?" Clark asked. Conner sat by the doorway, listening to Jon explain the events of the day.</p><p>"...and then Connie gave me a sketchbook! Did you know that you could draw for money?"</p><p>"Oh really?" Clark smiled at Jon, "What kind of drawings did Conner show you?"</p><p>Jon was happy to answer, "There was a really big house made of ice! And a Superboy suit, but none of my toys have that one..." Clark's blue gaze shifted to Conner at that, eyes questioning. Conner paled, but he was saved from answering by Lois announcing that food was ready. Well, she was welcome to save Conner from explaining his shitty past any time of the day in his book. </p><p>Conner turned his back to the two other kryptonians, and hurried into the kitchen. Lois had plated various burgers and fries along the marble, and was currently sitting at the end of the table. She motioned for Conner to sit down and he obeyed, eager to escape explaining that the suit actually had been made to Jon. Clark followed his son into the kitchen soon after, with Jon still on his hip. He sat the kid next to Conner and took his own seat at the head of the table.</p><p>"We uhh got you bacon with barbecue sauce," Clark awkwardly broke the silence, "wasn't sure if you still liked it or not..."</p><p>"Yeah," Conner replied back just as awkward, "I still like it." He took a bite of the burger to emphasize it, and partially to avoid further conversation. Clark awkwardly took a bite too, and it brought Conner extreme joy that his presence was able to do this to the Man of Steel.</p><p>Lois broke the silence next, asking, "So Jon, did you have fun today?" This caused the boy to explode into chatter, recollecting the events of the day for the second time. Conner was well aware that they looked like the picture perfect example of a nuclear family; they were only missing Krypto, who was hanging out in the Fortress as far as Conner was aware. It seemed like they were all ignoring the elephant in the room. Except it was less of an elephant and more of a brontosaur.</p><p>"And then we watched a really scary movie, there was a mean doll!"</p><p>Lois leveled Conner with a look, "Oh really?" she asked Jon.</p><p>"Yeah, but Connie let me hide in his shoulder, so it wasn't so scary!"</p><p>"And Conner," Lois started to speak, "why were you showing your little brother a scary movie?"</p><p>Oh great, they really were going to ignore the elephant in the room. Well, Conner could pretend as well as anyone, "I said I could change it, he didn't want me to," he offered.</p><p>"He's six."</p><p>"He barely saw anything." Clark watched the exchange, his brow continuing to furrow.</p><p>"If he gets nightmares, you are going to be so-"</p><p>"Grounded? You can't ground me, I'm twenty-four, this is <em>my</em> apartment that-"</p><p>"Okay!" Clark interrupted, voice filled with false cheer, "How's everyone's food?"</p><p>"It's really good, daddy!" Jon answered first, "I wanted a cheeseburger for lunch, but Connie made us cur- what did we have, Big Brother Conner?"</p><p>"Curry," Conner supplied.</p><p>"Yeah! Curry! It was really good, daddy!"</p><p>"Why don't you make us curry sometime soon, Conner?"</p><p>"I didn't make it," Conner replied gruffly, "it was take out. From Thairannosaurus Rex. It's on fifth street."</p><p>"We'll have to take a family trip sometime then," Clark smiled. And wow. Conner could get ignoring the elephant in the room, but this was an entirely new level of dissonance. </p><p>"I think so too," Lois agreed, breaking her silent spell, "it'd be a great way to catch up with each other."</p><p>Conner blinked. He stared at both of his parents in wonder. Did the past not exist to them? Did they suddenly forget Conner's entire childhood?</p><p>"That sounds fun!" Jon agreed next, "what do you think, Big Brother Conner?"</p><p>He thought that it was stupid as fuck, but he wasn't gonna admit that to Jon, "I don't know," Conner tried to avoid answering, "I'm busy with work every week."</p><p>"We can go whenever the bakery closes," Clark supplemented, "our hours are flexible."</p><p>Conner sighed, could they not tell that he didn't want to? He hummed in response, and took a bite of his burger. Clark thankfully dropped the subject, and the rest of them continued eating in silence. When everyone was finished, Conner levitated the dirty dishes to the sink. He stood up, fake smile proudly on display and stated, "Well it's getting late now, you guys should probably get going."</p><p>"You're right," Clark agreed, "Lois and I have an early morning tomorrow." He stood up too and gathered Jon on his hip. Lois got up, and Conner ushered everyone out of the kitchen. He opened the front door, and the other three exited with slight variations of "good night, Conner," He shut the door behind them and slowly sank to the floor. He would be alright, tomorrow was a different day.</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0007"><h2>7. Interlude: Absence</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Summary for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
            <p>Conner Kent is home alone, and he's fully convinced that there's a monster in his house.</p>
          </blockquote><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>Woo the second interlude! This contrasts(I hope) how Clark has treated Conner and Jon differently. Jon is left with his grumbly yet caring(even if he doesn't realize it) big brother, and Conner is by himself. Thanks for a thousand hits you guys!</p></blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>Conner was six years old, and he had just finished his first week of kindergarten. He was waiting outside of Metropolis Kinder for his daddy to pick him up, they were going to get ice cream today. Conner wasn't supposed to tell anyone, but his daddy was Superman. The other kids in Conner's class couldn't say that they got ice cream with Superman! Well, Conner couldn't either because it was a secret.</p><p>The little boy sat on a bench in the school's courtyard, kicking his legs in the air. School had ended five minutes ago, and his daddy still wasn't here! Conner expected at least two scoops of ice cream to make up for it. It had to be strawberry too; that was his favorite flavor. Conner's grandma made the best strawberry ice cream, she grew the strawberries and her farm and churned the ice cream herself! The best thing that she made was apple pie though, even if daddy always ate all of it.</p><p>The boy's musings were interrupted by someone shouting his name. He jumped off the bench excitedly, dragging his airplane themed backpack behind him; it had been a gift from Uncle Hal. He rushed to the source of the voice and tried not to let disappointment show on his face when he saw who it was.</p><p>"Hey, little dude," Jimmy Olsen said, holding his hand out for a fist bump, "ready to go?"</p><p>Conner half heartedly obliged the man, Mr. Jimmy was cool and he told funny jokes and all of that, but he wasn't daddy. "Where's daddy?" Conner asked as Jimmy led them to his car.</p><p>"He's out on a lead with Lois," Jimmy answered, "he asked me to take you back to the office while he finished."</p><p>Conner scowled at the mention of Ms. Lois. She was nice, but she always took daddy away from him. And Superman always had to save her! Couldn't she just stay out of trouble? That way if Superman wasn't with Conner he could at least do more important things. Like flying Conner to Smallville so that he bake pies with grandma. "Oh," Conner sulked, "he was gonna take me to ice cream today."</p><p>They had made it to Jimmy's car and the man kneeled down to look Conner in the eye, "I'll tell ya this, kiddo," Jimmy consoled the kid, "once we're at the Planet I'll get you a cookie from the bakery next door. Will that make you feel better?"</p><p>It wouldn't, but Conner nodded anyway. "Fist bump?" Jimmy asked. Conner banged his knuckles against Jimmy's, then the man opened up the car door. Conner climbed into the backseat, dropping his backpack beside him. Jimmy flashed him a salute, and then shut the door to go get into his own seat. Conner zipped opened his backpack, and pulled out his assignment that he had done in class.</p><p>They were learning the alph- alpha. The letters, and Conner had been assigned the letter "S". The other kids were jealous because the teacher had given him a Superman picture to color. He thought it was silly because Superman's symbol wasn't <em>really</em> an S; it meant his last name: El. Like how his Earth name was Conner Kent, his kryptonian name was Kon-El. Conner liked that they both sounded the same, that way it was harder to get confused.</p><p>Anyways, Conner had finished coloring his picture way faster than the other kids in his class. Art was his favorite thing to do in class, it was better than stupid math. The car came to a stop, and Jimmy opened Conner's door for him. "Alright little man, I'll go get you a cookie and you go run up to your dad's desk, okay?" the redhead stated.</p><p>"Okay, Mr. Jimmy." Conner and Jimmy both saluted each other, and the kid walked into the reception area of the Planet, carrying his backpack in one hand. Daddy's desk was on the fourth floor, and Conner couldn't fly yet, so he had to take the elevator. He hated the elevator music though, and would much prefer it if it was replaced by one of the kryptonian songs that daddy hummed when he was cooking. </p><p>The elevator <em>tinged!</em> to a stop, and Conner paced over to his dad's desk. It was incredibly tidy, but rather plain. The only personal items that it housed were two framed photos. One of grandpa and grandma in front of their house; the other of the four of them, Martha holding Conner on her hip. Conner remembered that day: it was when grandma first let him help make pie. Grandpa and daddy had been milking cows.</p><p>The rest of the floor was empty, so Conner decided to play games on Clark's computer. That was how the older man found him hours later, harshly clicking away on the plastic keyboard, while chewing on a chocolate chip cookie in the other hand.</p><p>"Conner," the man tapped his shoulder, "time to go home, buddy."</p><p>"Just one second, daddy," Conner said without taking his eyes from the screen, "DADDY!" The boy abandoned his game and rushed to reach his arms around his father's legs.</p><p>"Come on," Clark laughed, "let's go get some ice cream."</p><p>***</p><p>Conner did not get ice cream. Clark had turned the car around midway to the parlor, and detoured to the apartment. He violated several laws on the way, in a rush to get to his destination. Conner hadn't said a word since they turned around, out of shock and anger. Clark parked the car hastily, and got out of the car faster than the eye could see, super speeding himself and Conner into their apartment.</p><p>"Sorry, Conner," apologized as he appeared back in his Superman outfit, "there's a hurricane in Florida; they need my help."</p><p>"But you said we were gonna get ice cream today!" Conner shouted, trying his best to keep the tears back.</p><p>"I know," Clark knelt down to console his son, "but we can go some other day. The world needs Superman right now."</p><p>"Can't Uncle Hal do it? He's a superhero too!"</p><p>Clark wiped away a tear from Conner's cheek, "Uncle Hal can't help out right now, buddy," Clark murmured, "I'll be back before you know it. Shout if there's something wrong, I love you, Conner." The kid didn't get the chance to reply, his father flew off to go stop the next crisis. Between investigating and being Superman, it always seemed like Clark had something to do. Conner tried not to feel jealous, Superman wasn't just his father. He was a guardian to the entire world.</p><p>The tiny apartment seemed so much bigger when Conner was alone. His footsteps were the only noise as he trekked to the couch. He turned on the television, which soon became the only source of light as the sun went down. His stomach growled, and he got up from the couch to grab a snack. Midway to the kitchen, Conner heard a <em>bang!</em> sound from his bedroom. <em>It's just a noise, Conner, you're a big boy</em>, he thought as he grabbed an open bag of barbecue chips.</p><p>He returned to the couch and watched aptly as Lizzie McGuire tried to fix her hair for school picture day. Conner's own school hadn't done pictures yet, but Lois promised to dress him for it. Something about how daddy grew up in Kansas and his idea of fashion was plaid. The little boy didn't see what the problem was; he liked daddy's flannels. He fisted a handful of chips as Lizzie somehow managed to take a good picture.</p><p>Conner switched to Nickelodeon when he heard the <em>bang!</em> again. He jumped on the couch, spilling his chips out of the bag. Conner stood up, deciding to investigate the origin of the sound. <em>You're the son of Superman, Conner, you got this</em>. He took cautionary steps into the hallway, and the <em>bang!</em> went off again.</p><p>Startled, Conner shrieked, "DADDY!" Almost instantly, Superman appeared in front of him, completely soaked in water. He scanned the apartment, on edge. "Conner," he asked, "what's wrong?"</p><p>The little kid pointed at his door stuttering, "T-there's a monster in there!"</p><p>Clark's demeanor shifted from alert to angered as he x-rayed into Conner's room. "Conner," he commanded, "there's nothing in there."</p><p>"B-but I heard a sound and-"</p><p>"Conner Joseph Kent I only told you to shout if something was wrong, everything's fine here! I can't be pulled away in the middle of a mission!"</p><p>Conner's eyes started to well up at the harsh tone, "Daddy it's scary here," he mumbled, "it's dark and lonely and-"</p><p>Clark's face softened as he kneeled down to interrupt Conner, "I know, buddy," he conceded, "but you have to be brave, okay? I'm going to come back soon."</p><p>He slowly rose up, but Conner stopped him before he could go, "I love you, daddy," he mumbled into Clark's legs.</p><p>"I love you too," Clark smiled, and he was gone.</p><p>Conner was alone again.</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0008"><h2>8. Back to the Bakery</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Summary for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
            <p>Conner gets a nice day off from big brother duties, but he still has to go to work.</p>
          </blockquote><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>Sorry for the wait, hope you guys enjoy this chapter! Thanks for over a thousand hits and a hundred kudos, you all are awesome! We get a little bit of everything in this chapter: Jason and Conner bonding, Tim and Conner bonding, Conner's thoughts about Jon, and of course, Tim and Jason bickering. Conner even gets to talk with a surprise visitor.</p></blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>Conner sighed as he finished sweeping the Red Emporium's floors. He had arrived an hour early; seven in the morning instead of his usual eight. The store wasn't actually opened, but the kryptonian figured that he might as well tidy the place up before customers started to come in. Jason would've cringed at the amount of dust on the counter; they were only closed for yesterday. Conner started to think about yesterday: Jon wasn't too annoying if Conner annoyed all of his annoying parts.</p><p>Conner looked out the windows to check that no one was looking before he blew all of the dust off the counter and displays with a burst of super breath. Conner's extreme lung capacity was one of his underrated powers. His favorite of the bunch was still flight though. As a kid, he looked forward to the rare trips in Uncle Hal's plane. It only made sense that he'd continue the love of flight into adulthood. Something about being up in the sky was freeing. Sometimes he'd stabilize a cloud with his TTK and just <em>watch</em> the world run.</p><p>He ignored any comparison to Clark watching Metropolis from the globe on top of the Planet. It was <em>different</em>. </p><p>Conner tidied the rest of the front room then made his way to the kitchen; he wasn't as great at baking as Jason was, but he had still been taught by Martha Kent herself. He started to make loaves of bread first; they were the easiest thing on the menu to make. He mechanically worked through the motions of mixing the ingredients together, listening to the steady <em>whir</em> of the KitchenAid. </p><p>Conner tossed flour onto the metal table, and threw the dough down. Kneading was a great way to channel his frustrations out, and man did he have a lot of those right now. Stupid Jon, <em>push</em>, Conner barely worked at all because of him, <em>push</em>. Fucking dad! <em>push</em>, he still remembered Conner's burger order, Conner was trying to be pissed at him!. Something as inconsequential as a burger order shouldn't mean so much to him, but it showed Conner that Clark <em>did</em> care. </p><p>Except Conner wasn't sure what to do with that. So what if Clark cared now; he hadn't cared for the last six years. The kid inside Conner reveled in the attention that Clark was giving him, but Conner wasn't a kid anymore. Something that <em>mom</em>, <em>push</em>, didn't seem to understand. She dropped Jon on him like Conner was some fifteen year old teen that had to watch his brother while his parents went to work. And then she had the nerve to try and say he was grounded! Conner had been so pissed- <em>BRICH</em><em>!.</em></p><p>The kryptonian looked down at the table. It was dented, whoops. The dough was overkneaded to hell and back; Conner couldn't serve that to his patrons.</p><p>The door swung open, and Jason sauntered in, "Hey roomie, how's it- WHAT THE FUCK!"</p><p>"Sorry," Conner winced, "I'll fix it right now,"</p><p>"Yeah you will, I'm not buying a new table and I'm sure as hell not asking <em>Bruce</em> for a new one!" Conner rolled his eyes as he focused his TTK around the dent. He <em>pushed</em> and the table was back to its original shape. Jason walked over to inspect it, and Conner took notice of the dark circles that surrounded Jason's ocean eyes. All bats were required to have bad sleep schedules by default, but Jason somewhat knew how to get a healthy sleep.</p><p>"Rough night?" he asked.</p><p>"Tim looks worse," was Jason's immediate reply, "you'll see when he gets here."</p><p>"He's not at Wayne Tower today?"</p><p>"Nah," Jason snorted, "the little fucker burned himself out last night so Alfred banned him from stressful activity for the next two days and took away his tech. Frankly, I would enjoy it if Tim went someplace where I wasn't, but <em>you're</em> here and I work with you so..."</p><p>Conner pointedly Did Not ask Jason what he meant by that and instead questioned, "You guys didn't find anything last night?"</p><p>"Nothing new," Jason confirmed, "we only know that a presumably male assailant bombed a train car on the monorail. There fucking isn't any other information. It's like a ghost did it."</p><p>"Tim said the other day that it might've had something to do with the night life, anything there?"</p><p>"All the usuals are accounted for. Whoever did it isn't a native," Jason affirmed, "But that's enough about my shitty day, how was yours?"</p><p>Conner was tempted to break the table again. "The kid never shuts up," Conner groaned, "I was trying to work on a commission but I couldn't because the fucking kid couldn't be quiet. He kept asking me to play cars, Jay. <em>Cars</em>."</p><p>Jason finished checking out the table and he turned to face Conner, "Sounds like little Jon was acting like a kid," he snorted, "oh wait- he is. Did you play cars with him at least?"</p><p>"Did you say a single word to Dick yesterday?"</p><p>Jason paused from where he had started to make cookies, "Hmmm, would you mind getting me more chocolate chips, roomie?"</p><p>Conner briskly walked passed Jason into the pantry. His relationship with Dick was more fucked up than Conner's with Jon. Although Conner knew from his conversations with Tim and Jason that neither of the two men held any anger for the other. They just didn't know how to communicate. The kryptonian fished out a bag of chocolate, he blamed Bruce's influence for that. All of the bats were allergic to feelings.</p><p>"You know, it's really not that different, Jay." he said as he tossed the chocolates over to his roommate.</p><p>"Uhh yeah they fucking are? Jon is a sweet little kid that practically worships you; Dick is a twenty-eight year old man that avoids seeing me at all costs."</p><p>"That's not what Tim said. He said that Dick asks about you all the time."</p><p>Jason was whisking his dry ingredients together, "Tim is a scheming little bastard that can't be trusted," he replied and turned to look at Conner, "I thought we were talking about your family issues, not mine."</p><p>"Yours are more fucked up."</p><p><em>"Duh,</em> I have Bruce as a father," Jason conceded, "but yours are more recent."</p><p>Conner didn't say anything back. Over the past six years he'd mostly ignored his feelings toward his parents. The surprise brother had brought them into light. Conner didn't <em>need</em> his parents anymore, but why did he want them?</p><p>***</p><p>Conner was in the middle of serving a customer when Tim walked into the store. The detective was normally pale, but he looked undead as he drifted to the back of the store with a simple, "Hey, Conner." Alarm bells went off in Conner's head; Tim should <em>not</em> be here right now, he should be sleeping! The kryptonian rushed through business with the nice lady, who had ordered a dozen chocolate chip cookies. Conner wasn't sure how they would taste; Jason had been thinking of Dick when he made them.</p><p>Conner waited for the lady to walk off before he called out to Jason, who was doing his hourly sweep of the floors, "Jason stop being neurotic and watch the register, I'm gonna go check up on Tim."</p><p>Jason trotted over to the counter, "Have fun with that, roomie, you know how dear Timbo gets," he chortled as he set down the broom, "Also for your information, I haven't had clinical neurosis in over eight years, so ha!"</p><p>Conner turned his back to Jason as he bantered, "Too bad you still have clinical stupidity." He ignored the other man's indignant shout, just like everyone else in the building. The kryptonian had more pressing manners to get to. Like getting Tim to sleep instead of... Conner x-rayed into the break room and reached out with his hearing. Instead of sleeping, Tim was hunched over a table staring at his phone and muttering angrily about possible motives and suspects. Conner thought that Alfred knew better; it was guaranteed that Tim would have backups for his backups.</p><p>He reached the break room door and gave two brisk knocks. The knocks were just a warning for Tim, Conner was going to open the door with or without the other man's permission. He twisted the door open and was met with the sight of Tim pretending to sleep. He was good at it too; his heart rate and breathing patterns were completely steady. It would probably fool anyone without super senses; hell, Conner would've been fooled if he hadn't just seen Tim awake.</p><p>"Drop the act, Tim," Conner commanded, crossing his arms over his chest.</p><p>Tim, predictably, didn't say anything in return. He did, however, offer a light snore. <em>Wow, he's committed, </em>Conner thought. Well, there was only one way to "wake" the other man. Conner leisurely paced to the table that Tim was "sleeping" on, and went to take the phone from Tim's person. The detective shot up, and he pulled the phone closer to him and out of Conner's reach. With his unhealthy demeanor and disheveled hair, Tim reminded Conner of Gollum from Lord of the Rings. Clark used to read it to him- nope, he wasn't thinking about Clark right now.</p><p>"You look like Gollum," Conner snarked at the other man, "give me the phone."</p><p>"No, in fact how'd you even know I had it?"</p><p>Conner looked at Tim in answer. Super powers were a thing.</p><p>"Right of course. I didn't know we were living in nineteen eighty-four, Big Brother."</p><p>"Hand it over, Tim."</p><p>"But I have more files to read over!"</p><p>"And I heard from a little birdie that Alfred banned you from stressful activities, is that true?"</p><p>"Jason is anything but little," Tim muttered, "but yeah, it's true."</p><p>Conner ignored the slight to his roommate and continued, "And forcing yourself to stay awake counts as stressful activity, right?"</p><p>"Ugh, yes."</p><p>"So give me the phone."</p><p>"Look, Conner there's important inf-" Conner cut Tim off by snatching the device out of Tim's hands with his TTK.</p><p>Conner ignored the glare that the other man sent him, "Jason told me that you couldn't find anything yesterday," Conner chastised, "If you couldn't find anything then, you're sure as hell not gonna find anything now. You can get this back after you've taken an hour nap, at <em>least</em>. Did you hear that? An hour long nap."</p><p>The dark circles around Tim's eyes emphasized the look that he sent Conner. It almost looked like Tim was trying to <em>batglare</em> Conner, and the kryptonian struggled to hold in his laugh. He had seen Tim in mornings at the tower one too many times for that to affect him. Conner would never forget the image of Tim walking out of his room while bundled in what had seemed like hundreds of blankets; it wasn't really cold to Conner that particular morning, but kryptonians were living space heaters.</p><p>Conner didn't know why Tim had used all of those blankets, the kryptonian would've cuddled him if he just asked. What were friends for? Right he was getting side tracked. "I mean it, Tim," Conner cleared his throat to stop from laughing, "I'll be checking in on you to see if you're actually sleeping."</p><p>"Whatever, big guy," Tim muttered, "I'll just spend an hour wasting my time sleeping when I could be solving an extremely urgent case. No biggie."</p><p>"Great!" Conner smiled, "Glad we're on the same page!" He walked out of the break room, Tim's phone in tow. Conner paused in the hallway as he remembered his fight with Tim two days. <em>Fuck, I forgot to apologize</em>, Conner thought, <em>I'll just do it when I go to check up on him</em>. He trotted back to the register and was greeted by Jason's smile.</p><p>"How'd the chat with Timmers go?" Jason asked.</p><p>"I forced him to take a nap," Conner answered, "but I had to take this away." Conner held up the phone, "He's like a little gremlin."</p><p>"If gremlins were perpetually addicted to caffeine, but good thing Tim's already unnaturally short," Jason nodded, "But I <em>knew</em> that Tim had another phone, I think Alfred's losing his touch. He managed to block Tim from the mancave, but couldn't sniff out a phone? Hmmmmm."</p><p>"Don't let him hear that, he might stop making that tea you like," Conner snorted, "Actually you might wanna kiss that tea goodbye; I think Bruce bugged us."</p><p>"Oh he did," Jason confirmed, "I found them all in an hour. I make suggestive noises in front of them so Bruce gets the memo to LEAVE US ALONE!" He shouted the last part directly into the register, and Conner found an inconspicuous bump sitting on the keypad. Damned bats and their paranoia.</p><p>***</p><p>Tim had walked to the register before Conner could check in on him. He looked decidedly more rested, and Conner barely tried to stop the smugness from showing on his face. The kryptonian knew what was best for his insomniac. Tim wouldn't take care of himself so Conner had to do it for him.</p><p>"Thanks for that," Tim rubbed his eyes, "I probably would've crashed by now if you hadn't made me sleep."</p><p>Conner mindlessly counted the bills in the register, "No problem," Conner turned around to smile at Tim, "What are friends for?"</p><p>"Not trying to force other friends into doing things they don't want to," Tim sheepishly said, "Sorry for that. I-"</p><p>"No, <em>I'm</em> sorry, I shouldn't have snapped at you like that."</p><p>"But I shouldn't have pressed so hard. I know that you're still uncomfortable with the side business."</p><p>Conner blanched because it was true, he tried to ignore his friend's secret life, "Yeah, but I should've... heard you out first."</p><p>Tim was about to speak, but he was interrupted by Jason walking back from the kitchen, "Roomie, replacement, you can sort out your lover's spat later," the older man commanded, "This is a bakery, not couple's counseling."</p><p>"Sorry I don't speak neanderthal," Tim snarked.</p><p>"Well I don't speak nerd."</p><p>"That's <em>so</em> original, Jason, where'd you come up with that?"</p><p>"Like neanderthal is better," Jason sniped, "That's an insult pretentious fuckers use to make themselves sound smarter."</p><p>"I am not pretentious!"</p><p>"That sounds like something a pretentious person would say." </p><p>Conner watched the exchange with interest, his eyes flicking back and forth between the two other men. Did he act like that with Jon? Conner thought about and eventually decided that he didn't; Jason and Tim were willingly interacting, even if it was just to throw insults at each other. Finally, the kryptonian got bored of his friends' fight and repeated Jason's words, "Roomie, friend, you can sort out your brotherly spat later," Conner mocked, "This is a bakery, not family counseling."</p><p>"Roomie!" Jason gasped, "You can't use my words against me!"</p><p>"Why would you want to use Jason's words?" Tim added, "He rarely says anything moderately intelligent."</p><p>The two were about to argue again, but a customer walked up to the register before they could start up, "Excuse me," a woman that Conner vaguely recognized said, "I was here two days ago, I would like to further discuss what we had previously arranged."</p><p>Jason's demeanor instantly shifted and he smiled, "Of course! Daphne, right? Why don't you come to the back with me and Tim so we can get you settled."</p><p>"Right this way," Tim instructed, "Conner, watch the register?"</p><p>Conner nodded in answer, and the three other people left to discuss business. As much as they argued, Conner thought, Jason and Tim made a pretty great duo. Jason dealt with the client's wants and needs; Tim focused on the business of it, calculating cost and efficiency. Conner shuddered to imagine what would happen if the two got along for more than five minutes at a time; they'd be unstoppable.</p><p>Conner's thoughts drifted to the woman. Daphne, that they were assisting. He hadn't recognized her because he had been hungover when she had first showed up. Conner thought that Daphne was nice enough; she seemed to be incredibly confident and had requested their services for a school. As long as she didn't make asinine requests of Conner like Emelia did, Daphne would be fine in his books.</p><p>Fuck, Conner would be meeting with bride and her stepmother tomorrow; maybe Kara could stop by and drop another family issue on Conner so he could cancel again. Actually, Jon was enough of an issue right now; Conner couldn't take anymore problems. He was half surprised that he hadn't blown up on the kid yesterday, with all of the questions that he had asked. Good thing that was a one off event, Lois had mentioned that Clark wanted to hire a babysitter.</p><p>The kryptonian cleared his mind as he served the flux of patrons coming in and out of the bakery. He didn't bother listening in on the conversation that Tim and Jason were having with Daphne; they could handle themselves. Conner was counting bills when he heard the door chime. He blinked as he recognized the man entering the shop. That was Dick. For all that they lived in the same city, Dick Grayson never stopped by the apartment or the bakery.</p><p>"Hi," Conner tentatively spoke, "What can I get for you?"</p><p>Dick pulled his coat tighter around himself and asked, "Is Jason here?"</p><p>Nope, Conner wasn't going to do this. He had his own issues, thank you very much. "He's in a meeting right now," the kryptonian answered.</p><p>"That's fine. I can wait." Dick walked over to a table and pulled out a seat. He sat down, twiddling his fingers in his hands.</p><p>"Can I get you anything?" Conner asked, he was running a business after all.</p><p> "I'll take a s'mores bar. Jay makes those, right?" Conner nodded his head in confirmation as he grabbed a bar from the display case. He plated it and delivered the treat to Dick.</p><p>"So, Conner," Dick asked, "How're you doing? I heard that you have a brother now."</p><p>"Yeah," Conner frowned, "Jon was a... surprise."</p><p>"We were pretty shocked too," Dick nodded, "Even Bruce didn't know about him. I didn't know that Clark could keep a secret that well."</p><p>"I didn't either."</p><p>"You think that he'd get along with Dames?"</p><p>Conner thought of Jon's radiant smile and contrasted it to Damian's ever-present snarl. "I think they'd balance each other out," Conner settled.</p><p>"That's great! Little D could use some positive influence besides Alfred, yunno? But how do you feel about the kid? I know it isn't easy."</p><p>Right, Dick had been the recipient of not just one, but three surprise brothers. Conner started to answer, "I'm-" <em>extremely jealous of him because he's getting the childhood I never got to have</em>, "getting used to the idea of him."</p><p>Dick hummed around a bite of s'mores bar, "Yeah I get it. I was a major dick, pun intended, to Jason when he first showed up."</p><p>"You're still a dick to him now."</p><p>"Yeah," the older man winced, "But that's why I'm here. I never thought that I'd take emotional advice from Tim of all people, but he told me to come by here and just <em>talk</em> to Jason. So, here I am."</p><p>"Tim also said that you thought I'd <em>glare</em> you to death if you showed up."</p><p>"Will you?"</p><p>"Will your conversation end up with Jason almost drowning in the docks again?"</p><p>Dick's gaze hardened, "No, that was a mistake. It wasn't my place to do that to him. But we're brothers and I love him, no matter what."</p><p>Conner nodded his head, "I won't <em>glare </em>at you then."</p><p>"I'm glad Jason has you watching his back, he's not alone anymore," Dick smiled then looked down at his phone, "Look, I gotta go, but tell Jason I stopped by, please?"</p><p>"No problem," Conner replied, "You know Jason has my back too. He's helped me through some serious shit."</p><p>"Of course he has," Dick stated, "he likes to put on this tough exterior, but inside he's even more of a softie than I am. See ya later, Conner." Dick parted with those words, leaving a half eaten s'mores bar behind. But it wasn't those words that Conner was thinking about. <em>But we're brothers and I love him</em>. Dick and Jason were fucked up, plain and simple, yet Dick still loved him. Conner didn't love Jon. He'd only known the kid for a day; it was impossible to love him right now. But maybe he could, before the two Kents drifted apart like Dick and Jason had.</p><p>"Hey, roomie," Conner jumped at the sounds of Jason's voice, "what customer had the balls to order a s'mores bar and not finish it, so I can ban them from ordering ever again."</p><p>"Oh no one," Conner replied offhandedly, "just your older brother."</p>
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<a name="section0009"><h2>9. Reevaluation</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Summary for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
            <p>Conner gets (is forced) to watch Jon for a second time, and has feelings along the way.</p>
          </blockquote><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>Next chapter! Thanks for waiting and for 1600 hits! I'm kinda blown away by the reception of this, don't forget to kudos and comment at the end!</p></blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>Jason had reacted almost exactly how Conner thought he would. The older man's face had stopped showing emotion and he slipped on a mask of pure uniterest. Jason had asked why Dick had shown up at the bakery, and seemed to shut down even more when Conner told him. The only glimpse that Conner got into Jason's feelings was when he asked if Dick had liked the s'mores bar.</p><p>Although the kryptonian knew better, Jason hadn't seemed to outwardly care that Dick stopped by the bakery. Conner had the complete opposite reaction when he opened his door Monday morning to find Clark waiting on the other side with Jon. Because he did care. Conner cared very much that his parents were forcing themselves into his life again. Even if he wouldn't outwardly admit it.</p><p>Conner looked at the two other Kents, "Why are you here?" he asked. Except he already knew the answer. Could Clark just get on with it?</p><p>"Good morning, Conner," Clark greeted, "can we come in?" <em> Just drop the kid off and leave already, fuck </em>.</p><p> "I have to leave soon," Conner answered, hoping to ward his father away.</p><p>"It'll only be for a quick minute," Clark tried to assuage, "come on Jon." Clark guided Jon into the apartment, who had been more quiet than usual. Not that Conner minded; in the short time that he had known him, the older thought that the younger could use a swig of shut the fuck up. Conner tried not to be annoyed with himself at how easily Clark had gotten into the apartment. Conner could've stopped him, so why didn't he?</p><p>Clark's oldest son followed after the youngest, wondering what was going to happen. Was it time for the argument that always seemed to happen whenever his parents were around already. Or maybe it was time for Conner to scream in Clark's face about his neglected upbringing and subsequent personal issues. <em> Well, </em> Conner thought, <em> time to find out </em> . Hopefully it was nothing <em> too </em> serious, it was too early in the morning for Conner to acknowledge his poor childhood.</p><p>"Jon," Clark started to say once Conner had arrived after them, "why don't you sit on the couch for a little bit. Daddy is going to talk with Connie, okay?" <em> Fuckfuckfuckfuckfuck </em>, Conner was just joking when he thought about talking about his feelings.</p><p>"Okay Daddy!" Jon responded with his normal enthusiasm. Clark jerked his head to the kitchen, and Conner followed after him. He was certain that his heart was pounding, but Clark didn't comment on it, thankfully.</p><p>Conner slid the door shut behind him and decided to rip off the bandaid, "You wanted to talk?" he asked.</p><p>"Yes," Clark nodded, "thank you for watching Jon. I know you're not entirely... comfortable with him, but it's a big help to Lois and I."</p><p>Conner let out the breath he was holding; they weren't having the feelings talk. "It's not like I have much of a choice," Conner said, "I can't just ditch him."</p><p>"Why would you do that?" Clark frowned, "You're family."</p><p>"That didn't stop you," Conner whispered under his breath without thinking.</p><p>"Excuse me?"</p><p>Oh he had said that out loud. "Nothing," Conner muttered.</p><p>"No, I know what I heard. Conner, I never ditched you."</p><p>"Of course <em> you </em> don't think so."</p><p>"I may have worked a lot of overtime, but I was <em> always </em> there for you."</p><p>This was getting dangerously close to feelings dangerously fast, but Conner couldn't stop the automatic response, "That is such bull shit." That day from kindergarten was burned into Conner's mind.</p><p>Clark's brow furrowed, and his cobalt eyes started to harden, "Conner Joseph Kent! I am your father-"</p><p>"You've never acted like it," Conner interrupted, abandoning any hopes of ignoring his feelings "you were never there when I needed you! Never!"</p><p>"I always tried to be there for you, I may have been busy sometimes-"</p><p>"You were always busy! Busy chasing leads, busy writing articles, busy saving the world, you were so busy you forgot about me!"</p><p>"It was all for you! Everything I ever did was for you! Every time I chased a lead! Every time I put on a cape, it was all for you! When I couldn't see why I was saving people, I thought of you! I was Superman because of you! I tried to give you the world!"</p><p>"I NEVER WANTED THE WORLD! I WANTED MY FUCKING DAD!"</p><p>Clark deflated at that, "What did you want me to do, Conner?" he asked brokenly, "I was a single parent doubling as a superhero. What did you want me to do?"</p><p> Conner wiped a tear from his face, reigning in his TTK, Conner answered just as brokenly, "I-I don't know. I just wanted my dad. Do you know what it was like to share you with everyone else?"</p><p>Clark surged forward and wrapped Conner in a bone crushing hug. Conner sniffled in the embrace. "<em> Ehl te, </em>shhh," Clark soothed, "I never knew you felt that way. I'm truly sorry that I hurt you, but I have always loved you, Kon-El. From the moment I saw you smile to right now"</p><p>Conner didn't dare look up, fearing that he would completely break down. "Then why did you say that, at the fortress?" he mumbled.</p><p>Clark shushed him again and answered, "Do you know how worried I was? Conner you were comatose for almost a day. I thought I lost you, and I lashed out in fear and anger."</p><p>"You said-"</p><p>"I know what I said. I've spent entire nights wide awake, regretting those words that came out of my mouth."</p><p>"Why now?"</p><p>"Lois said to give you space at first, so I did. Eventually you never came back, and I wanted to go get you, so badly. But between Superman and raising a newborn, there was always something in the way. When I heard your heartbeat on that train, well I didn't think twice."</p><p>Conner hummed, "There was always something in the way, story of my life. But it's been <em> six </em> years, dad, I don't need you anymore," Clark froze, "but I want you."</p><p>Clark's potential response was stopped by Jason opening the door, "I hate to break up this sweet father-son bonding time," he started, "but you should really get back out there; the kid's freaking out."</p><p>The older man slowly pulled away from his son, giving one last squeeze before he left. Jason paced over to his roommate, concern written on his face, "You're okay, Conner? I think that the entire complex could've heard that." he checked in.</p><p>Conner didn't want to talk anymore about feelings after <em> that </em>. Instead he sniffled, "Our apartment's soundproofed; Bruce would never let us live here if it wasn't."</p><p>"I know that, dumbfuck. But give me a one through ten."</p><p>"Shut up, dipshit," the kryptonian took a moment of self reflection before he answered, "seven."</p><p>"Whoa," Jason whistled, "that's a lot better than I thought you would say."</p><p>Conner thought about his father's words. Clark did care. He cared so much that he left Conner behind. The cape, the extra hours, it was all for him. It didn't make it right; Conner had still been neglected, and he didn't know if he would ever love his father the same as he once did, but at least he was neglected out of love. Conner snorted in his mind, <em> my life is so fucked </em>.</p><p>He gathered his bearings before replying, "Yeah, I'm overwhelmed and ignoring my feelings right now, but it needed to happen. How's Jon?"</p><p>"He was freaked out from the shouting, but I gave him some juice and talked him down. Sweet kid by the way, you wanna trade him for Damian?"</p><p>No, Conner realized, he didn't.</p><p>***</p><p>After their... talk, Clark had left Jon in Conner's care. Conner, who wasn't quite sure what to do with the kid. The last time had been relatively easy because it was his day off, but Friday had had unique circumstances. Unique in the sense that Conner was going through an existential crisis. He was pretty sure said crisis was still going on, but he was trying his best to ignore his emotions. Of course, he had failed at that, which resulted in the whole thing with Clark.</p><p>Conner stood up from his spot on the couch, creasing out the flannel that he had recently put on. The kryptonian watched Jason's back as the other man sorted through the bookcase leaned up against the living room wall. "Jason!" Conner hissed to get his attention, "What the fuck are we gonna do with you know who?"</p><p>The other man turned around to roll his eyes, "I don't know, what do you normally do with six year old kids named Jon," he snarked.</p><p>Conner felt himself before he answered, "I had the day off last time! He just sat down and shot me with questions. Except we can't do that because of work! I can't just leave him alone!"</p><p>"Don't be fucking stupid, roomie, we'll just take him with us."</p><p>"No no no no, I'm not driving with you." Jason's reckless driving was part of the reason he preferred to walk to work. That and the fact that Conner failed his driver's test multiple times. Nothing was forcing Conner to drive with his roommate, except he'd have to bring Jon on his walk. Morning walks to work was strictly Conner time, and he'd feel bad if he made Jon drive with Jason alone.</p><p>"Relax, I'm a perfectly safe driver."</p><p>"The speed limits you ignore say otherwise!"</p><p>"We'll let the kid be the judge," Jason huffed, blowing a streak of white hair from his face. The toilet flushed at that moment, and Conner could hear Jon zipping up his jeans. His little footsteps pit-patted over the floor, and Jon appeared shortly after.</p><p>"Did you wash your hands?" Conner asked. Jon shyly shook his head. "Well, go do it!" Conner commanded, "With soap!" Jon saluted and ran off to the bathroom again.</p><p>"You know," Jason mused, "you might have no fucking idea what you're doing, but I think you're shaping up to be a good big brother.</p><p>Conner ignored the odd feeling that swirled around in his chest. "I'm a shitty brother," Conner replied.</p><p>"Nah, you're way better than I was to Tim."</p><p>"Whoa," Conner snorted, "real high bar you set there, Jay."</p><p>"Shut the fuck up," Jason flipped him off, "I mean it though. I'm glad that you're treating that kid right." <em>Oh</em>, it was time for Jason's feelings.</p><p>"I might have extreme family issues, but even I can tell that Tim loves you."</p><p>"He shouldn't."</p><p>"Hey, hey no we've been over this. Tim forgave you, the past is the past. He loves you, I love you, fuck even Dick loves you in his weird bat way."</p><p>"I know," Jason sighed, "but I did some fucking terrible things."</p><p>Conner couldn't refute that. The kryptonian had been furious when he heard what had happened to Tim; Clark had to stop him from hunting Jason down. Afterwards, Conner had always been standoffish to the other man; out of anger for Tim and fear of what Jason could do. And then that faithful night happened. Conner had just made it to Gotham from Antarctica and had rescued a drunk Jason from the docks. The origin of their bond sparked an idea in Conner. "Do you think I should forgive my dad?" he asked.</p><p>"Huh?"</p><p>Conner doubled down, "Do you think I should forgive my dad? What he did to me was pretty fucked up too."</p><p>Jason ran his hands through the white streak in his hair, "He's your dad," he stated simply.</p><p>"And you're Tim's brother. If I should forgive dad, why shouldn't Tim forgive you? Family is family."</p><p>"Do you forgive him?"</p><p>And wasn't that the million dollar question? Their talk had been eye opening for Conner, but it couldn't change the past. But the truth wouldn't help Jason, "Yeah," he lied, "And Tim's forgiven you too."</p><p>Jason looked into Conner's eyes, but thankfully didn't call out the lie. "Right," Jason started, "Well, I think that's enough emotions for the day. Why don't you grab the kid so we can blow this popsicle stand."</p><p>"You're such a fucking loser." But Conner nonetheless honed his hearing in on the bathroom. That's weird, the faucet wasn't running. Conner didn't hear a heartbeat either. He slowly checked the rest of the apartment, and his stomach lurched when he found Jon.</p><p>"KID! GET OUT OF MY ROOM!" Conner raced to his room with the sound of Jason's laughter behind him. He skidded to a stop in front of his door, expecting to x-ray in and see a complete mess. Instead, he saw Jon sitting at his desk focusing intently on something with an array of pencils in front of him. Conner opened the door with a soft click.</p><p>"Kid," he said from the doorway, "come on, we gotta go."</p><p>"One second, Big Brother Conner!" Jon replied without looking up from his project. The older Kent sighed and leaned back against the door frame. A minute later, Jon's "tada!" announced the completion of his piece. He eagerly ran over to his big brother and proudly displayed the drawing. Conner blinked as he took in the two blobs. They both were red and blue, except one of them was outlined in black.</p><p>"Nice, kid," Conner lied, "can you tell me more about it?"</p><p>Jon shook his head up and down and launched into explanation, "It's Superboy and Superman!" <em>that explains the colors</em>, Conner thought, "and look here's Superman's cape and Superboy's leather jacket!"</p><p>"I still have that jacket," Conner mused out loud.</p><p>Jon's eyes lit up in excitement, thankfully without heat vision, "Really!?" he asked, "can I see it?"</p><p>"Better," Conner replied, "you can wear it." He pushed off the doorway and paced to his closet, a deep walk-in half filled with unfinished paintings. Conner opened door and walked to the very back of the closet. He checked time as he looked for the jacket. <em>Fuck, better hurry up</em>, Conner thought. <em>It's somewhere in here</em>, he searched through the items with a newfound haste, tossing old shoes and shirts behind him.</p><p>A single white van from his teen days knocked over an easel, and the canvas fell over with a dull <em>thud</em>. Conner let out a breath when he turned around to investigate; it was <em>that</em> canvas. The jacket sat plainly in the back of the canvas. He walked over and picked the jacket up only to face another artifact from his past. The House of El's symbol stared inconspicuously at him from the back of the canvas. The suit had been hidden under the jacket, how could he forget. </p><p>Conner placed his palm on the kryptonian fabric, following the outline of the red spaces over the blue. His hand reached the crest, and Conner began to trace the shape of the "S". He thought of the night that the suit was created first, the booms of the explosions as he tried desperately to maintain his TTK shield and the aftermath of his decision. His thoughts of the past lead him back to think of what Clark had told him today.</p><p><em>I tried to give you the world</em>.</p><p>Conner wished that his life was normal. That his dad wasn't an alien superhero, that he couldn't fly through burning buildings without harm. All of those people that Superman had saved wouldn't have survived, but Conner would've grown up with a father. Call him selfish, but he didn't care. Clark was <em>his</em> dad, not the world's.</p><p>"Big Brother Conner!" Jon shouted from outside the closet, "Did you find it?"</p><p>Conner placed the easel and canvas back up, ignoring the aura of sadness that seemed to radiate from the crest, "Yeah, I'll be out in a bit!" he shouted. Conner turned his back and walked away from the suit; he wasn't Superboy anymore.</p><p>***</p><p>"How did you even pass your driver's test?" Conner asked, unbuckling his seatbelt.</p><p>"I'm good at driving," was the reply.</p><p>"You missed the turn! Three times!"</p><p>"I don't know what you're talking about," Jason turned around to look at Jon in the backseat, "what'd you think, kiddo?"</p><p>Jon answered from where he was swaddled in Conner's old jacket, "It was like driving with mommy!"</p><p>Conner laughed. Lois was one of the worst drivers he knew, which he voiced to Jason.</p><p>"Hey don't we have a bakery to run?" Jason asked. Conner had won this time; there was no recovery from being compared to Lois Lane's driving skills.</p><p>"How much do you wanna bet that Tim's already in there?" the kryptonian asked.</p><p>"Who's Tim?" Jon piped up.</p><p>"My brother. He's one hundred percent already here, he's still banned from WE and the night job. Now come one, let's go before he decides to murder us for being late."</p><p>Conner opened the door of the red sports car, some model that Jason would bitch at him for not knowing, and stretched his legs out. The rest of his body followed, and Conner took a moment to breath in the morning air. He opened the Jon's door next, and helped the kid out of the car. Once Jon was situated, he whispered, "Is he really gonna murder us for being late?"</p><p>Conner looked down at the kid and answered, "Not us. But Jason better watch out." Jon's mouth dropped into an <em>oh</em>, and the two brothers walked into the store. They were met by the sight of Jason and Tim already arguing, and Conner sighed, walking passed them to sit Jon in the staff room. Jon who had ran over to the arguing brothers, and was kicking Tim in the shins.</p><p>"Leave Mr. Jason alone!" he shouted to everyone's confusion.</p><p>"<em>Jon!</em>"</p><p>"<em>Mr. Jason!"</em> </p><p>Conner ran over to pull Jon away from Tim's legs. "Kid, what're you doing?"</p><p>"Saving Mr. Jason!" he squirmed in Conner's hold, trying to get free, "Let me go!"</p><p>"Kid, you don't have to save Jason from Tim."</p><p>"But you said he was gonna murder him!"</p><p>Conner let Jon go and pinched the bridge of his nose, "I was joking," he sighed.</p><p>"So Mr. Jason isn't gonna get murdered?"</p><p>"Well," Tim spoke up, "<em>I </em>won't murder him, but someone else might."</p><p>"Shut the f-," Conner glared, "flip up Timbo. Been there, done that."</p><p>Conner was too emotionally drained to talk about the past again. Jason's return from death included. So he spoke up, "Tim! This is Jon! Say hi to Tim, kid."</p><p>Jon hid behind Conner's leg, and peeked his head out with narrowed eyes, "Hi... Tim."</p><p>"Hello, Jon," Tim replied, indulging Conner's distraction.</p><p>"Kid, apologize to Tim for kicking him."</p><p>"Why?" Jason asked, "that was fu-flippen, sorry, hilarious." Both Conner and Tim glared at him. Conner because he was trying to be a responsible adult; Tim probably because Jason was talking.</p><p>"Sorry for kicking you, Tim."</p><p>"Apology accepted," Tim laughed, "Jason has a good body guard, I'll make sure to keep an eye out from now on."</p><p>Jon stepped out from Conner's legs and puffed his chest out in an imitation of Superman that was scarily accurate for a child that was only four feet tall, "Good, cus I'm watching you."</p><p>The older kryptonian rolled his eyes and started to gently push Jon toward the hallway that led to the staff room. "I'll be right back, try not to kill each other."</p><p>"Yeah, <em>Tim</em>," Jon agreed, "My daddy's Sup-"</p><p>"OKAY! We're going to the staff room now!" Conner rushed them through the hallway and swung open the staff room door. He pulled out a chair and motioned for Jon to sit down in it. He could hear Jason complaining about Jon's name for him in the background.</p><p>"He called me <em>mister</em>, Tim! I'm not that old, am I?"</p><p>"Nah, it's just Clark raising him with Kansas hospitality. I'm pretty sure Conner did it as a kid too." Conner cringed, he had had many lessons on how to treat people right from Clark. He stopped being nice once he realized that it meant more hospitality lessons from his father.</p><p>Conner refocused his attention in front of him, "Kid," he started, "you can't just say that your dad is <em>special</em>, okay?"</p><p>"But daddy says they're superheroes too?" Jon questioned.</p><p>"And it's a secret. What if someone who wasn't a superhero heard you say that? You have to watch what you say."</p><p>"Okay," Jon sulked.</p><p>"Good, you have your backpack?" Jon held up the Superman backpack, "I'll be up front, call if you need me." Conner was halfway to the door when Jon said, "Love you, big bro."</p><p>No. No, nonononono. Conner froze, "Love you too," he lied. The door shut behind him, and Conner walked in a trance back up front. Jon loved him. <em>Why</em>? They had known each other for a total of two days, and Conner had barely spoken to him for one of them. The older Kent didn't know what he felt about the younger. It wasn't love, but it wasn't hatred either.</p><p>"Conner!" Tim said when he saw him, "what're you doing back out here?"</p><p>"Working?"</p><p>"Not at the register, Jason said and I quote, 'Tell him to take Jon in the kitchens, that kid has some Martha Kent in him, he has to be able to bake something.'"</p><p>"Jason left?"</p><p>"Yeah, a meeting with that girl from yesterday, keep up big guy."</p><p>"He didn't- whatever. I guess I'll be in the kitchen then."</p><p>"Wait, before you go, was that <em>the</em> jacket that Jon was wearing?"</p><p>"Yup, he asked if he could see it, but I just gave it to him instead."</p><p>Tim's face flashed with an unrecognizable expression as he said, "I didn't think that you'd keep it."</p><p>Conner understood what he was saying immediately. "It was in the back of my closet," he offered.</p><p>"You know, we had a lot of good memories with that jacket."</p><p>"<em>Tim</em>, how many times do I have to tell you?"</p><p>"Right, sorry."</p><p>"It's fine," Conner sighed, "I'm gonna go get Jon now, you're good up here?" Tim affirmed him, and Conner gave a parting smile. He x-rayed into the staff room to see what Jon was doing before opening the door: coloring. He walked through the hall, questioning himself as he went. He stopped in front of the door, Ma would be proud, it's fine.</p><p>"Kid," Conner asked as he opened the door, "do you know how to bake pie?"</p>
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<a name="section0010"><h2>10. Interlude: Expectations</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Summary for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
            <p>Clark and Conner have a late night slice of pie with Ma as they visit the week of Thanksgiving.</p>
          </blockquote><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>Next chapter! This is Clark's pov and we get more of his insights on Conner and parenting. Ma Kent is a goddess ofc<br/>Translations: ehl te; my star, ukr te, shovuh khuhp  w rrup dovrrosh bim; dad, I love you to the sea, chao shovuh w rrup ehsh bim; and I love you to the sky<br/>Don't forget to kudos and comment! I mean only if you'd like to though, I appreciate them, it kinda motivates me to write.</p></blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>It was a cool and crisp November night as Clark and his son walked up to the humble farmhouse that stood amongst the abundance of corn and wheat. The drive from Metropolis had been tough on Clark's old and beat-up sedan, the poor thing was barely hanging on. Bruce had offered (insisted) to buy Clark a new car multiple times, but the other man was stubborn as an ox. Not only that, but what was a car if Clark fly anywhere he wanted; he was Superman after all.</p><p>Clark had debated if he should fly or drive to Kansas, but driving ultimately won out; He didn't want to fly with luggage in his arms and Conner on his back. His son had been disappointed at the lack of air travel, but he didn't complain much during the trip. Which was unusual for him, as Conner was a rather vocal child. Although, the eight year old had been vocal on the drive; he had strong armed Clark into playing a myriad of car games with him. Those damn Missouri license plates, Clark's arm was still sore from Conner's punches. The kid didn't quite know his own strength yet.</p><p>Conner snored on his shoulder as Clark knocked on the chipped red painted door. He heard shuffling from in the house, and shook his son's arm. "Conner, wake up buddy," he whispered.</p><p>The kid looked up with bleary eyes, "Whah?"</p><p>Clark snorted at his son's antics, "We're here, kiddo."</p><p>"Darned right you are!" Martha Kent exclaimed from the doorway, "I was wondering when you'd get here. Now come inside before the pie gets too cold."</p><p>The appearance of his grandmother seemed to excite Conner, and he wiggled out of Clark's hold with a shouted, "Grandma!" The youngling ran up to Martha and wrapped his skinny arms around her waist. Clark tried not to wince, hopefully Conner had his strength under control.</p><p>To his relief, Martha only laughed, "Hello, dear. Let's go get some pie before daddy eats it all." she tugged Conner into the house, and Clark's heart warmed at the sight.</p><p>"I don't eat that much," he argued, trailing in after the other two.</p><p>"Yes you do!" they said at the same time. Conner with a sulking tone and Martha's teasing.</p><p>Clark met the other two in the kitchen, spying the pie sitting on the windowsill, he boomed, "Then I'm going to eat this one too!" In a quick burst of super speed, he stood next to the pie, and Conner appeared not a blink later. The older Kent lifted his son up and spun him in circles to the boy's amusement. Clark didn't notice that he was in the air until Martha cleared her throat.</p><p>"Boys," she reminded for the thousandth time, "no powers in the house."</p><p>Clark blushed as he returned to the ground, "Sorry, Ma."</p><p>"Can I get pie now?" Conner asked, ever the single-minded child. Clark snorted in fondness.</p><p>"Whenever daddy decides to put you down, dear."</p><p>"Daddy put me down!" Conner demanded.</p><p>Clark, feeling playful, squeezed his arms around the kid, "Nope, I'm gonna eat all the pie, remember?"</p><p>Conner blew a tuft of black curls out of face, and contemplated for a moment. His face lit up in an epiphany, and he turned his head to look at Clark. "Daddy," he asked, widening his cobalt eyes, a mirror image of Clark's, "will you put me down so I can get pie, pretty please?"</p><p>Clark tried his hardest to stay stone-faced, either to stop from laughing or completely folding in to his son's demands. "Nice try, kiddo," he encouraged, "did Lois teach you that?"</p><p>Conner's facade dropped instantly, and he replied, "Yep, she made me practice until I looked like a kicked puppy. Sometimes we go around the city and Ms. Lois pretends to be my mommy so we get free stuff."</p><p>Clark's grip loosened in surprise, and Conner took the opportunity to slip away to the table. "What!?" he asked scandalized.</p><p>Martha laughed from where she was cutting up the apple pie, "Clark, dear, you haven't gotten on that yet?" She navigated her way to the table, serving Conner a slice of apple pie.</p><p>Clark ignored her and asked, "Conner, does she really pretend to be your mother?"</p><p>"Nope," Conner replied around a mouthful of pie, "but we do get free stuff! Ms. Lois said it's practice for when I'm a reporter to get information from people!"</p><p>Clark strode to the table and pulled out the seat opposite to Conner, "That sounds like something she would say," he mused out loud, "Do you want to be a journalist though?"</p><p>"Yep!" Conner answered enthusiastically, "When I grow up, I'm gonna be just like you!" Martha silently gave Clark a slice of pie and he mouthed a silent thanks to her.</p><p>"You know, dear," Martha started to say, pulling out her own seat next to Clark, "It's okay to be Conner Kent. Just because this man right here is your daddy doesn't mean you have to be him."</p><p>Clark didn't know what to say to that, but Conner had plenty of words. "But daddy's so cool!" he defended, "He's the best daddy ever!" Clark blushed at the notion. The fact that Conner believed so thoroughly in him made his heart glow.</p><p>"Oh I know, dear," Martha agreed, "But with all this talk of growing up, you're gonna forget to be a kid. Do reporters get to eat delicious apple pies all the time?"</p><p>Conner shook his head and Martha hummed. Clark was extremely grateful for his Ma's help; he had been a parent for eight years, but he still felt out of his depth sometimes. Conner was a very needy and active child, and he struggled with balancing both of his jobs and parenting duties. Sometimes, the people of the world <em>had</em> to come first, Clark just hoped that Conner knew that he was trying his best.</p><p>Most of the time, Clark wondered why he even bothered trying to fight against the evils of the world. The answer was always for Conner. Clark did what he did so that Conner wouldn't have to grow up in a terrible world. He worked overtime so that Conner could live in Metropolis comfortably; he donned the cape so that Conner could live without danger. No matter what, Clark's reason was always for Conner.</p><p>Clark finished his pie in silence, and took note of the drowsy Conner. "Ma, I'm going to put Conner to bed," he said, "I'll be back in a little bit."</p><p>"Of course dear," Martha replied, "when you get back, we can talk about <em>Lois</em>." Clark's entire face started to heat up. The image of Lois mothering his son conjured butterflies in his stomach. <em>I'll ask her about it after Thanksgiving</em>.</p><p>"R-right," he stammered, "let's go to bed, kiddo." Clark swooped up the kid, who immediately snuggled into his father's warm embrace.</p><p>"But daddy," Conner yawned, "'M not tired." Looking at the current image of his son, Clark found that hard to believe.</p><p>"Of course you're not," Clark agreed, "but it's past your bedtime."</p><p>"And you have to wake up early tomorrow to pick apples with Grandpa," Martha added.</p><p>Conner seemed to agree, and he murmured a tiny goodnight to Ma. Clark cradled the eight year old in his arms, and walked passed the room that contained a snoring Pa. He always went to bed early, the morning chores weren't gonna finish themselves, he'd say. Clark stopped in front of the old oak door to his childhood room, carefully opening it to avoid any loud creaks. The room still had his old Metallica posters and letterman jacket pinned to the wall. And the same desk still sat in the corner.</p><p>But instead of his old twin bed, a king now sat in the center. <em>Bruce</em>, Clark thought as he paced to it. He took his time carefully tucking Conner under the Superman comforter, subtle. The eight year old stirred at the action, and he mumbled, "Can you tell me a story, daddy?"</p><p>Clark finished tucking him in and sat down next to Conner on the side of the bed, "Which one?" he asked, even though he already knew the answer.</p><p>"Rao." </p><p>And so Clark began to speak in Kryptonian, detailing the red star that orbited Krypton. The god of the star, Rao, had created many other gods, including the spirits Nightwing and Flamebird, before he had created life. The kryptonian people worshiped Rao for creating and sustaining their lives. Clark trailed off as he finished the tale, "... <em>ehl te, Rao.</em>"</p><p>"Okay, I think that's it for tonight, Conner. I'll see you in the morning."</p><p>"Night, <em>ukr te, shovuh khuhp  w rrup dovrrosh bim</em>."</p><p>Clark smiled at the spoken kryptonian and replied, "<em>chao shovuh w rrup ehsh bim.</em>"</p><p>He got up off the bed, walking away, he hear Conner say again, "I'm gonna be just like you when I'm older."</p><p>Clark whispered once he was sure Conner was asleep, "No, <em>unah te</em>, you'll be better."</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0011"><h2>11. Bonding</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Summary for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
            <p>Conner and Jon have a talk, and Conner is greeted by a visitor.</p>
          </blockquote><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>Woah, 2000 hits!!! Thanks for reading and supporting. This picks up where we left off in current times. As usual, comment and kudos if you enjoyed!</p></blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>Jon did not know how to bake a pie. <em>Hell</em>, Conner thought, <em>he might as well be an expert at ruining them</em>. Conner already had to sacrifice several blocks of butter to the cause. The older one had explained how to make the crust perfectly, what did Jon not understand? Conner had eagerly absorbed Ma's words when she had taught him how to bake; granted he did also crave any scrap of parental attention he could get.</p><p>But that was besides the point. Conner sighed as he explained to Jon that not all of the butter went in at once. "Here, watch me," Conner explained as he pulled the dough bowl away from Jon, who's dark hair was lightly dusted with specks of flour. Conner cut the butter into roughly equal sized pieces while he explained the process to Jon. The older Kent took a strip of butter and slowly kneaded it into the dry ingredients. </p><p>Conner finished kneading out the crust, and he turned to Jon, "Alright, your turn, kid," he said, pulling out another bowl from under the table.</p><p>Jon twiddled his fingers, "What do I do?" he asked.</p><p>"Where you paying attention?" Conner groaned, "Look it's Ma's recipe; you can't mess it up." </p><p>That only seemed to make Jon more nervous, and his arm shook as he measured out flour into the bowl. Conner held back a wince, that was too much, the crust would come out dense. At least he finally got the butter right this time, Tim had been urging Conner to celebrate small victories. The kid started to knead the dough with far too much force, and Conner tried to stop himself from interfering.</p><p>The dough was just so lumpy, and Conner found himself guiding Jon's hands behind him. "You're doing it wrong," Conner muttered, "ease up, the dough didn't do anything to you." Conner felt the pressure relax, and he maneuvered himself so that he was on the other side of the table. With a slight amount of TTK, Conner pulled his own bowl of dough in front of him, and started to show Jon the next step.</p><p>"Next you have to spread the dough around the pie dish, Ma always said that this is the most important part."</p><p>"What was she like?" Jon asked as Conner pulled out two pie dishes from under the table.</p><p>"Huh?" Conner inquired.</p><p>"Ma," Jon restated, "What was Ma like?" Conner wasn't really sure how to answer that question. He rarely talked about Ma anymore. Sometimes when Clark was available, the two would trade their favorite stories about her, but Conner stopped doing that for obvious reasons. Tim liked to ask about her too, but it wasn't the same.</p><p>"That depends," Conner stated, sliding a pie dish over to Jon, "what do you want to know?"</p><p>Jon thought for a moment, his thin brows pulled down, and Conner took the time to start pressing his dough into the dish. "I don't know, daddy gets sad when I ask." Jon informed, "Can you just tell me about her?"</p><p>Yes, Conner could do that. Talking about Ma was easy. "Ma was the most caring person in the world, she was always there for me when..." <em>when dad wasn't</em>, "she was always there for me. Now grease the pan and start pressing the dough into it like this. Save some of the dough to cover the pie later."</p><p>Jon followed the instruction, and asked another question, "Did she teach you to bake?"</p><p>That was an incredibly easy question to answer, and Conner confirmed that he learned everything he knew from Ma. Jon nodded his head, and went back to pressing the dough. Conner checked the temperature on the oven, and started to gather the ingredients for strawberry rhubarb pie. They worked in a comfortable silence until Jon broke it, questioning, "Do you think she would've taught me how to bake too?"</p><p>"I don't know," Conner joked, "Only a couple of people were allowed in Ma's kitchen. Neither of your parents were."</p><p>Jon's face fell, "Oh, okay. Maybe she would've taught me how to knit instead?" Conner noticed the change in mood and mentally cussed himself out. <em>Fuck, I'm so stupid</em>.</p><p>"Who knows, knitting or baking, I'm sure that Ma would've loved you."</p><p>"You really think so?"</p><p>"Kid, I know so. But let's get these in the oven first."</p><p>Jon didn't ask many questions after that. He took to Conner's instructions like a fish to water, and they slowly started to create a filling for the pie. Emphasis on slowly, Conner tried not to be too annoyed at the pace; Jon was a kid after all, but Conner could have made three pies in the time it took him to make one. Jon chattered mindlessly as he mixed the fruit together. Conner nodded while he listened to Jon rant about how his new bed was uncomfortable and he missed his room back home.</p><p>Back home? Oh, right, they were staying in the complex that Wayne Enterprise owned in order to host their contractors. Conner noticed that Jon wasn't paying attention to the hand mixer that he was operating, and was about to say something, but a splatter of strawberry rhubarb sauce stopped him before he could. Conner blinked, and wiped the sauce off with a towel that had been lying on the table.</p><p>"OH MY GOSH, BIG BROTHER CONNER, I'M SORRY!"</p><p>"It's fine kid," Conner consoled, grabbing a fistful of flour, "accidents HAPPEN!" Jon shrieked as the flour hit him. The kid retaliated by throwing sugar back at his older brother. Soon enough, it escalated into a full blown food fight; various ingredients were flying through the kitchen. Conner didn't discriminate: the only ingredients that he avoided were the ones that would eventually go into the pie; everything else was fair game.</p><p>"That's not fair!" Jon shouted when Conner blocked a stalk of rhubarb with his TTK.</p><p>"Life's not fair!" he replied, chucking the rhubarb back at Jon. The kid dodged out of the way, and the rhubarb sailed passed him to knock over a stack of pots with a <em>CLANG!</em> Conner winced, and cleaned around the kitchen in a quick burst of super speed. He whispered to Jon, "Act normal."</p><p>"Why?"</p><p>"Tim's coming." Not a moment later, the mention man swung open the doors and surveyed the room with a critical glance. He crossed his arms over his chest and Conner had to do a double take. When did Tim get so buff?</p><p>"Conner," Tim drawled out, "the kitchen's pretty clean. I thought you were baking in here."</p><p>"Yeah," Conner nervously laughed, scratching the back of his neck- wait did Tim just check him out! Tim just totally watched his arms flex! Conner purposely stretched his back, and Tim's eyes snapped to where his shirt rid up. </p><p>The other man snapped out of it, and inquired, "So that bang I heard back here was just you cleaning?"</p><p>"Yep," Conner agreed.</p><p>"So why is Jon's hair covered in flour?"</p><p>"I spilled it on him."</p><p>Tim turned to the youngling, "He spilled it on you?" <em>Come on kid, don't fuck this up</em>, Conner thought.</p><p>"Why should I tell you, <em>Tim</em>?" <em>Ehh close enough</em>.</p><p>Jason walked in at that moment, looking at the kitchen, he cheered, "Sweet! Kid's first food fight! Smile, this is going on the fridge!"</p><p>***</p><p>Conner had managed to sneak Jon back to the apartment to freshen up; flower in the hair got itchy after a while. Jon's clothes had been given a quick wash, forget Tim, Lois would eviscerate him if she found out that he had sullied Jon's clothes. Conner had been told many, many times that removing stains was one of her least favorite activities. The kryptonian was concerned about the jacket though; that leather had been in contact with all sorts of... fluids.</p><p>Like the time Bart had spilled hot chocolate on it. Or the time that Bart spilled a fruit smoothie all over it. Conner couldn't forget the time that Bart had also somehow managed to spill cake batter on it too. When the kryptonian thought about it, he found that Bart Allen was an extremely clumsy person. Or maybe it was just a ruse to finally get rid of the leather; Bart had always been vocal in his hatred for the clothing.</p><p>Looking at the jacket on Jon, Conner didn't see a problem with it. Sure it was extremely gaudy and unnecessarily studded, but it was a product of its time. Ten year old Conner had been extremely enraptured by the scene kids in middle school. Current Conner cringed at the memory, seriously why didn't anyone tell him how bad that haircut was. He found his perm to be much better than whatever <em>that</em> had been.</p><p>Conner looked at Jon's hair, it was less curled than Conner's own, and a dark shade of brown rather than black. It was wet from washing the flour out, and Conner thought that the younger's hair resembled a haystack that had been blown about in the wind. Lois's genetics at work.</p><p>Jon noticed the staring, and shrieked, "My hair <em>still </em>has flour in it!"</p><p>Conner snorted, "Nah, kid, you just looked cold. Trust me there is <em>no</em> more flour in there."</p><p>"Good, cus I don't wanna put my head in the sink again." Jon whined, pulling the leather jacket around himself. Yeah, the kid was cold. It was February in Gotham and he was only wearing a pair of Conner's old basketball shorts and an oversized leather jacket. The older Kent instructed the younger to wait, and he strolled into his room from the living room. Conner zeroed in on his closet, carefully stepping over paintings and drawings abandoned on his floor, and began to rummage through his clothes.</p><p><em>Where the fuck did I leave it</em>, Conner thought. He sorted through a pile of shirts on the floor, regretting the fact the he had not enlisted Tim's help to organize his closet. The item that he was looking for was a quilt made by Ma Kent <em>years </em>ago. Conner had a habit of sobbing into alone when he was an emotional mess. The last time he'd been fucked up enough to seek out the blanket was- when he found out about Jon. Oh. He could see why he'd coped by drinking instead.</p><p>Briefly, Conner debated with himself on whether he should give the blanket to Jon or not. Ma had made it for him; it was <em>his </em>quilt. Conner had slept with it, played with it, and sobbed with it. That quilt belonged to him, through and through. But Ma hadn't been around to make a quilt for Jon; he didn't have a childhood item lovingly crafted by his grandmother. In fact, he had nothing from his grandmother at all, not even a memory.</p><p>Conner found the red and blue blanket shoved into a sock drawer, dusting off the House of El's crest as he pulled it out. There were plenty of blankets in the apartment, Conner had walked by several in his closet, but the kid liked Superman right? </p><p>Conner made up his mind before he could think too much about it. It was just a blanket. Granted, it was a blanket that held extreme emotional significance and was one of the last connections he had to his grandmother, but a blanket nonetheless. The man threw it over his shoulders and walked back out to the youngling. Jon was completely wrapped up in the leather jacket, shivering on the couch.</p><p>Jesus, why couldn't the kid just say he was cold Conner would've grabbed a blanket sooner, or made a hot drink, or something. "Here," Conner grunted, "I wasn't kidding when I said you looked cold."</p><p>Jon looked surprised, but he smiled anyways, saying, "Thanks Big Brother Conner, you're the best!"</p><p>Conner winced at the nickname, but replied, "It's not a big deal. Just say something next time, got it? Your mom would kill me if I let anything happen to you."</p><p>The younger Kent smiled in answer, and Conner resigned to sitting on the couch until the laundry was done. They had been absent from the bakery for about half an hour, what was another fifteen minutes? Tim would probably be angry and make some sarcastic comment when they got back, but Conner would test his theory and flex again to distract the bat. Just because Tim watched him flex didn't mean that he was attracted to Conner right?</p><p>Conner had admired the strength of several superheroes in the past, and he could safely say that he was not attracted to men. Conner had had few partners in his short life, and they were all women. Jessica Schreiber in eighth grade, Mimi Waters in sophomore year, and Cassie. He winced at the last one. Their breakup had not been friendly in the slightest of ways. It had partly fueled the decisions that led to the incident six years ago.</p><p>Best to not fall down that rabbit hole while Jon was swaddled in his emotional support blanket.</p><p>Soon enough, Jon was changed into his freshly lavender scented clothes, and Conner prepared to fly them back to the bakery. Jon made a comment about superheroes, and wrapped the quilt around his shoulders like a cape. Conner checked to see that no one was looking, and shot off into the sky, Jon gripping his hand. Instead of heading to the bakery, the older Kent hung suspended in the air.</p><p>Jon looked at him in confusion, "Big Brother Conner why'd you stop?"</p><p>Conner floated over to a nearby cloud before answering, "Well you want to be a superhero," he started, coalescing the cloud with his TTK, "now's your chance to look like one."</p><p>He let Jon down on the cloud, and the kid's face lit up in awe. Jon ran around on the cloud, striking various poses as he went. With the jacket and quilt, he looked every bit like a Superboy.</p><p>***</p><p>Conner had been able to avoid Tim's remarks by immediately shuffling Jon to the kitchens to check on their pie. To his relief, Jason had finished the baked goods, and they were sitting plainly on a cooling rack. It wasn't hard to tell who made what pie. Conner's had a flaky crust with a heart cut out on top; Jon's... did not. Looks like there would only be one pie for the patron's today; Jon could take his back home.</p><p>"Come on, kid," Conner spoke, "let's go box yours up."</p><p>"Wait! Can we try it first?" They could do that, but they could also eat some of the  many baked goods that Jason made. But the kid looked so excited that Conner couldn't deny him. So he walked over to the table, grabbing a knife as he went, and prepared his taste buds for the worst. The older kryptonian cut out two slices of pie, and offered one to Jon, giving him a paper towel to eat over. The kid's eyes were on him, so Conner figured he might as well get it over with.</p><p>He took a bit, and instantly had to fight the urge to gag. How had Jon managed to make pie so wrong? Conner had laid out the ingredients and watched Jon the entire time, it shouldn't taste like <em>that</em>. <em>Unless</em>, Conner thought with a horrifying clarity, <em>Jon used salt instead of sugar. </em>One look at the ingredients still laid out on the table confirmed Conner's suspicions. He would have to bitch to Jason about keeping the salt close to everything else.</p><p>"Well?" Jon asked, looking up in excitement, "How is it?"</p><p><em>Fuckfuckfuckfuck </em>Conner couldn't just tell the kid that his pie fucking sucked. It was time to channel his inner Tim, "It was... better than I expected." The older Kent lied. Well not exactly <em>lied</em>, he just told the truth, albeit skewed slightly to the left. If Conner ignored the salt, the filling wasn't so bad. The crust was still an unappealing brown and somewhat lumpy, but Conner honestly thought it would be worse.</p><p>"Great! I'm gonna try it now!"</p><p>Conner's eyes widened; Jon was not allowed to find out that his pie tasted terrible. Conner slapped the slice out of the kids hands, giving a weak, "Sorry, fly."</p><p>Jon seemed unfazed, and replied with a smile, "That's okay! You can just slice another one!"</p><p>Conner grinned, "No can do, kiddo. You're taking the rest of that home; dad eats a lot of pie." Conner's grin grew larger. He could see it now, Jon brings pie that he made for desert, and Lois and Clark were parentally obliged to eat it with a smile. </p><p>"So I don't get to eat it?" Jon questioned. </p><p>"Not this one at least, but come one, you can have a slice of mine." Jon accepted that, and Conner breathed a sigh of relief. Jon got to eat actual pie, and not that salted mess he had made. Crisis averted. Conner sliced Jon a piece, and settled the kid in the break room. Hopefully Jon's coloring books would keep him busy for a bit. Conner might've opened up to the kid a little bit, but his personality was grating to be around. The kryptonian worked in a bakery, and Jon felt like a sugar overdose even to him.</p><p>Tim's disapproving stare welcomed Conner as he walked up to the front counter. It was silent for a little for a short moment until Tim asked, "A food fight, really?"</p><p><em>Play dumb play dum</em><em>b</em>, "What food fight?"</p><p>"The one between you and Jon." Tim reminded.</p><p>"That's weird, I didn't have a food fight with him."</p><p>"<em>Conner</em>," Tim tried to bat-glare. And really it was just ridiculous.</p><p>"Fiiiiine, It was more of a food tussle," Conner conceded with a snort, "but he started it!"</p><p>"Conner, you're an adult," the other man deadpanned, "he's six."</p><p>"Okay, and?" Conner replied, leaning on the counter to prop his chin over his hands, he looked up at Tim, "Adulthood isn't just working yourself to the bone. Don't you want to live a little?"</p><p>"I'm perfectly happy with Wayne and the night job. You don't have to worry about me."</p><p>"But I do, Tim. You're my friend; it's my job to worry about you, you little insomniac. The night job's case isn't going to be solved anytime soon, so just take a break."</p><p>"About that-"</p><p>"Nope, I don't wanna hear it. Tomorrow we're going out to T-Rex and we're going to pretend that I'm not in the middle of a family crisis and you aren't going crazy trying to fix everything. Just the two of us."</p><p>"That sounds great, but there's something you need to know."</p><p>"Does it have something to do with our plans for T-Rex tomorrow?"</p><p>"It very well can, listen-"</p><p>"No planning dates in my bakery!" Jason interrupted Tim, walking back from wherever he'd been, "back to work!"</p><p>Conner stood up from the counter, affronted at Jason's words, "It's not a date," he argued, "we're just two friends hanging out."</p><p>"So a date," Jason confirmed, looking at an oddly silent Tim.</p><p>"Whatever, dumbfuck," Conner retorted, "don't be jealous because I chose Tim over you."</p><p>"<em>Pffft</em>, like I'd ever be jealous of Tim," the door chimed in between Jason's words, "he's scrawny and short."</p><p>"Hey! What's wrong with us short people?" A new voice chimed in. A voice that Conner recognized. It was impossible to forget the rapid fire squeaks that belonged to Bart Allen.</p><p>Tim answered for the rest of them, "Nothing, Bart. That's what I was trying to tell you earlier, Conner. Bart's coming."</p><p>"And I'm here!" Bart cheered, "How've you been C-Man? You're looking good for- what is it? Twenty-four?"</p><p>This wasn't real, Conner decided. This was just a cosmic prank, and he'd wake up in his apartment without an annoying younger brother, and Bart would be far away in Keystone City. Except it was real, and Bart was expecting an answer. "Y-yeah," Conner started speaking, failing to be unbothered by the speedster's sudden appearance, "I'm fine, but there's been a surprise lately."</p><p>"Big Brother Conner," said surprise said from the hallway, "Who's that?"</p><p> </p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0012"><h2>12. They Talk a Lot</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Summary for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
            <p>Conner goes thirdwheeling, and makes a big mistake</p>
          </blockquote><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>I'm so sorry for the wait on this chapter, guys! I was concussed in a car accident last week, so I stopped writing for a bit, but don't worry I'm mostly fine now. Anyways, I hope you enjoy this, comments and kudos would be greatly appreciated &lt;3</p></blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>Conner glared at the plastic tiger that sat on his usual table in T-Rex. The animal was propped up on its hind legs, mouth open to roar. The figurine hadn't done anything to offend him, but the kryptonian wasn't having a good week. First, Jon had decided that Conner was his de facto babysitter, and the older had seen more of the kid in the last six days than the last six years. Conner had decided that he didn't <em>hate</em> the kid, but Jon could use a lesson on how to shut up.</p><p>Then he'd met with Emilia, the bride he'd kept putting off, and she managed to get on his nerves more than Jon did. She made contradictory requests that the baker couldn't meet in anyway. How was he supposed to design a cake that was whimsical and youthful yet also rigid and aged? Conner's only saving grace was that Emilia's mother-in-law wasn't there. Gloria would've caused him to burn the entire bakery down.</p><p>To make matters worse, the Gotham Gazette had seen Jon parading around in the sky, running an article titled <em>Superboy Spotted! The Hero's First Sighting in Six Years!</em> Lois and Clark had called him immediately to confirm; the former had blown up on Conner because taking Jon into the sky was dangerous. The man thought that she was overreacting; if they were low enough for cameras to catch them, they were low enough for Jon to be completely safe.</p><p>Evidently, Lois did not agree. She lectured him about responsibility and treating Jon with the utmost care. Conner could not have cared less. He didn't <em>have a responsibility</em> to watch Jon, and the kid had enjoyed his time in the clouds. That didn't matter to Lois of course, once she made a decision her mind was set in stone. Like how she couldn't seem to understand that Conner had no obligation to them whatsoever.</p><p>Clark seemed to at least. After their talk, the man practically glowed every time his son gave him the slightest hint of attention. He showed up at the bakery on lunch breaks, brought dinner to Conner's apartment, and performed general fatherly actions, Conner felt smothered by him. It was... strange to say the least. Conner wasn't sure what to do with it. It was great that Clark cared now, but what about the Conner's past?</p><p>This was why the baker had demanded Tim to go out with him. The other man needed a break, but Conner could use one too. It would've been great if they met up right after Amelia, but Tim was busy with <em>Bart</em>. Off doing sciency things and galavanting around in superhero costumes. Really, the kryptonian was looking forward to the alone time with Tim. Except-"Conner, you good, dude?" Bart dropped his voice to a whisper, "you look like you're gonna shoot lasers from your eyes!"</p><p>"Just tell the whole world, huh?" Conner snarked in answer.</p><p>"He's right, Bart," Tim agreed, "Especially after that article. The media's going crazy trying to find any hint of his alter-ego."</p><p>"Sorry, sorry," Bart put his hands up in defense, "you know, C-Man, you could just show up as K-Man and blow the paps' mind."</p><p>"I tried already," Tim replied, "he won't do it." That was an understatement. The kryptonian tried to avoid superheroing like the plague. It was just his luck that he was surrounded by superheroes.</p><p>"Cool beans," Bart bobbed his head, the ginger poof that he called hair flopping up and down, "so what're you gonna do about it?"</p><p>"Huh?"</p><p>"The stooooooryyyy," Bart slowed down, "you gonna do anything about it?"</p><p>"No," Conner replied automatically, "they'll stop sooner or later. Trust me, the world is never gonna see Superboy again."</p><p>Tim sent him a pointed look, "<em>Conner!</em>" he reprimanded. The kryptonian shrugged. There wasn't anyone else around and Asnee was cool enough to keep a secret. Speaking of which, the short man appeared to take their orders. Or more accurately, take Bart's order, there was no way that Asnee didn't memorize what Conner and Tim ate. The kryptonian watched as Bart listed off what he wanted to eat, and took the time to observe the man.</p><p>The speedster was in constant motion as he ordered, fingers and feet tapping out a rapid rhythm, that hadn't changed. Bart was dressed in a plain white t-shirt layered with one of the gaudiest Hawaiian shirts the Conner had ever seen. He mocked the leather jacket but still had the nerve to wear <em>that</em>. In winter too! Besides the shirt, Bart looked mostly the same. His hair was still obnoxiously long, his eyes still lit up in excitement and he still had that same toothy smile.</p><p>"-and an order of angel wings!" the speedster finished.</p><p>"That's a lot of food, dude," Asnee remarked, scribbling down the order with a glittering Hello Kitty pen.</p><p>"I run track."</p><p>"Hey no complaints here. More food for you means more money for me! I'll go put this in and come back with drinks."</p><p>The short Asian man drifted away, and the rest of the table sat in awkward silence. Conner wasn't sure how to start a conversation- at least with Bart here. The kryptonian could talk with Tim about anything; from his time at the bakery to the stray cat that he had seen on the walk over here. Not so much with the speedster. How was he supposed to talk with someone that he hadn't seen in over six years?</p><p>Bart didn't have this issue, and he broke the silence, asking, "So a kid brother, C-Man, how's that going?"</p><p>Conner couldn't help but groan, and Tim answered for him, "Don't get him started, Conner gets fed up with Jon faster than I do with Damian."</p><p>"You can tell?"</p><p>"Of course I can tell," Tim chided, "I know you."</p><p>"Well, yeah," the other man agreed, "but the kid doesn't notice that I'm pissed at him half the time."</p><p>"I wouldn't know about that," Bart warned, "I could always tell when Wally was annoyed with me when I first showed up. I always made sure to be as positive as possible so he wouldn't get too mad."</p><p>"Jon's different, if happiness was a person it'd be him."</p><p>"That's what you think," the speedster shook his finger, "Anyways, Timtam, did you get the data I sent ya?" Conner zoned out at the mention of superhero talk. Superboy was retired, and no article written by any news outlet could change that. The two heroes were discussing something about gun powder when Asnee came by with drinks. Bart and Tim paused to accept their soda and tea, while Conner took his lemonade with a grumbled thanks.</p><p>Asnee leaned down to whisper in his ear, "Don't be jealous because your boyfriend is talking with another man."</p><p>Conner shoved him away without a word. He wasn't dating Tim! Asnee walked away with a giggle. "What was that about?" the "boyfriend" himself asked, lifting up his tea to drink.</p><p>"Nothing," the kryptonian grumbled, "just said I was jealous because my boyfriend was talking to other people."</p><p>"YOU GUYS MADE IT OFFICIAL!" Bart exclaimed, "I mean, I always suspected-"</p><p>"Whoa whoa whoa," Conner interrupted the ginger, while Tim choked on his tea,"no, Bart, we're not dating. Asnee just likes to joke."</p><p>Tim gathered his bearings enough to agree, "Yeah, strictly platonic feelings here, Bart."</p><p>The speedster glanced back and forth between them before humming, "Riiiiight, we're all bachelors here, of course." </p><p>Tim's phone went off, and his face hardened as he read the message, "We have to go."</p><p>Bart looked at the raven haired man inquisitively, Tim elaborated, "There's a <em>situation</em> in San Francisco. We have to go, Bart." </p><p>"This was supposed to be a day off," Conner complained.</p><p>The bat let an apologetic look show on his face, "I know, I know. I'll make it up to you later. Let's go, Bart."</p><p>The two heroes stood, and Bart parted, "It was nice catching up with you, C-Man. You might not be on the team, but you don't have to be a stranger!"</p><p>Conner was left alone at the table, cursing the superhero life. He remembered that he would have to pay, and took his frustration out on the plastic tiger, knocking it off the table with TTK. A second later, Impulse super-sped into the building, dropping a black credit card, Tim's, on the table with a wink, leaving just as fast as he appeared.</p><p>***</p><p>Jason snickered from his spot on the couch, the television playing a trashy reality show in the background. Conner felt his face flush, "It's not funny!" he snapped.</p><p>"It's fucking hilarious," Jason defended, stifling giggles between his words, "Tim ditched you to go hang out with Bart!"</p><p>Conner flopped face first onto the leather right beside Jason, "They weren't hanging out, there was an emergency! It was urgent!"</p><p>"I bet it was really <em>urgent</em>," the other man offered.</p><p>"Tim wouldn't leave me to go bone someone, guy or girl!"</p><p>"There, there," Jason consoled, rubbing circles into the kryptonian's back, "I'm sure that Bart's a great fuck."</p><p>Conner looked up to flip his roommate off, "Fuck off."</p><p>"Don't be so aggressive, I'm just fucking around," Jason started, "Tim's been hung up on the same person for years now."</p><p>"They must be pretty stupid to let a guy like Tim slip through their fingers."</p><p>"Yeah," Jason agreed, "he can be really fucking dumb some times." <em>He</em>. Tim was into dudes. How had Conner not noticed? The kryptonian racked his brain trying to find an example of Tim being attracted to guys. As far as Conner knew, the other man had only dated chicks. Tim had stopped dating anyone after a while, that must've been because of his unrequited crush. Well, the other man liked men; good for him.</p><p>Conner sat in a comfortable laze as he watched Jenniana start a fight with Khrystina, that was good television. Eventually, he zoned out and started thinking about Bart's words from earlier. Sure, Conner got annoyed at Jon from time to time, but it wasn't like the older one was actively taking it out on the younger. Conner was treating the kid pretty fairly, all things considered, right?</p><p>"How often does Damian get on your nerves?" Conner asked, hoping to get a comparison to his experience with Jon.</p><p>"What kinda fucking question is that?" Jason asked back, "Literally every time I see him the demon brat does some fucking stupid thing. Now shut up, Khrystina's about to start another fight, I can hear your thinking from here." Conner aptly decided to shut his mouth; Jason with reality television was almost as bad as Jon with Disney movies. The kid's constant shushing frustrated Conner to no end, even if the older found it to be slightly adorable.</p><p>The episode ended with Jenniana inviting some other lady out to lunch, and shortly after, the doorbell to the apartment rang. Jason glared at the other man as if to say <em>you're getting that</em>, and Conner got up with a sigh. It was damn near 9:30 at night, who was at their door? He didn't bother x-raying, whoever was on the other side was going to get a quick dismissal anyways. Conner opened the door to come face to face with his father.</p><p>"I could've sworn that Bruce payed extra to up the security on this place." were the first words out of his mouth.</p><p>"I'm an investigative journalist, getting past security is my job," Clark replied, holding up bags of Mexican takeout, "I hope you haven't had dinner yet?"</p><p>"That depends!" Jason shouted from the couch, "What'd you bring?"</p><p>"Chimichangas, what else?"</p><p>"Conner, let your dad through!" The kryptonian obeyed, and Clark smiled at him as he walked through. Conner had accepted that Clark was trying to rebuild their tarnished relationship, but it still felt like the Twilight Zone every time the older man did something even remotely fatherly. He shook himself out his stupor, and trailed in after Clark. The younger kryptonian didn't know why he was surprised; Clark had come by with dinner the last three out of five days.</p><p>Although, Conner noticed the absence of two particular people this time. He voiced that, asking, "Where's the rest of you guys?"</p><p>Clark started heading to the kitchen, answering, "Jon's having a hard time adjusting to the new place, so Lois stayed behind to help him out." Right, between his verbal assaults, the kid had blurbed something about feeling uncomfortable in the new place.</p><p>"You didn't stay back to help him?"</p><p>"That's what Lois was there for," Clark affirmed, "besides, you're my son too." That's what Conner meant by displays of fatherhood! Clark before Jon would never have done anything like this; Clark after Jon was an entirely different story. Honestly, Conner would appreciate a warning for whenever Clark decided to be father to him. A guy could use the time to prepare his heart of course.</p><p>The familial duo arrived in the kitchen, where Jason had managed to set up an impressive array of paper plates and plastic forks. He had a weird thing where he refused to eat takeout with normal dishes. It ruined the authenticity, the kryptonian had been told; as if take out was authentic in the first place. <em>I haven't had clinical neurosis in over eight years my ass</em>, Conner thought. He couldn't really complain though, he had taken up Jason's offer to room with him all those years ago.</p><p>"Gimme the changas, Clark," Jason demanded, wasn't Conner's roommate so charming?</p><p>"There's plenty of food for everybody, no need to rush," Clark laughed, setting down the greasy paper bags on the table. The younger Kent winced, Jason would complain about grease on his marble later. <em>Neurotic</em>.</p><p>The Wayne rifled through the bags, humming in approval as he went. "It's all queso and asada," Clark spoke up, "I wasn't sure what to get, so it's all basic, sorry."</p><p>"Trust me, I don't give a fuck. Any Mexican food is good food in my opinion," Jason replied, "but Conner's weird as fuck, and has an unexplained aversion to-"</p><p>"Tomatoes," Clark finished, "I know. He used to pick them out his salad and feed them to Krypto. I got four of them without tomatoes, just for you."</p><p>Conner ignored the warm feeling in his chest, and focused on the other part of the sentence, "You noticed?"</p><p>Clark rolled his eyes, looking exactly like his son for a moment, and answered, "Of course I noticed. Even if I wasn't your father, Krypto isn't a very subtle animal."</p><p>Fuck, there Clark went again, making Conner feel loved.</p><p>***</p><p>Conner's tongue poked out the corner of his mouth as he iced blue roses onto a layer of vanilla cake. A sweet couple had hired him to bake a cake for their anniversary, and the baker prided himself on the quality of his work. So, Conner had to be very-</p><p>"What're you doing!?"</p><p>Delicate with his hands. He looked down at Jon, who had pressed himself into Conner's side, and looked down at the smeared icing. He clenched his teeth and sighed, "I <em>was</em> icing a cake," he muttered, trying to hint to the kid that he was busy.</p><p>"Mommy doesn't let me have frosting." Conner could see why; Jon by himself was annoying enough, Jon on a sugar high would get shot with heat vision.</p><p>"Oh no," Conner said, refocusing on the cake. Maybe if he ignored Jon he would go away.</p><p>"What flavor is it?" No, of course he wouldn't; the kid wasn't anything if persistent.</p><p>"Vanilla." <em>I swear if he asks to eat it</em>-.</p><p>"Can I try some?" There it was.</p><p>Conner set down the piping bag, taking a temporary break from the cake. <em>Be polite, be polite, be polite</em>. "This is for the cake," he answered gruffer than he wanted to.</p><p>"Just a little bit?"</p><p>"Are you a cake that needs to be frosted?"</p><p>"...No," Jon pouted, "but mommy never lets me have any, and ba-vanilla is my favorite."</p><p>Conner internally scoffed, like hell he was going to fall for a basic puppy dog look; he had mastered it in his childhood. "If there's any left when I'm finished," the elder started to bargain, "you can have the rest, alright? Now be quiet, I need to focus."</p><p>The deal seemed to please the younger Kent, and he stopped bugging his brother. However, to Conner's chagrin, Jon hadn't budged from his spot at his side. With a calming silence, the baker picked up the piping back and set out to ice the cake again. His arm mechanically went through the motions of frosting a rose. <em>Swish swish swish, </em>next, <em>swish swish swish, </em>next. Eventually, Conner had a cake covered in flowers and labeled <em>Happy Anniversary </em>in big and loopy letters. The baker smiled to himself, another job well done.</p><p>He looked at the empty piping bag, "Sorry, kid, there's nothing left," Jon's face fell, "but, that doesn't mean that I can't make more."</p><p>It took a moment for the words to settle in Jon's mind, but once they did he wrapped Conner in a stronger than humanly possible hug. Conner grunted at the force, "Don't go hugging me yet, I haven't even-"</p><p>The kitchen doors swung open, and Jason frenzied in, a wild look in his eyes, "Roomie's brother, roomie," he greeted, "you remember that giant ass order from last week?"</p><p>Conner racked his brain, the previous week had been a blur of shock and unresolved feelings, "Sort of, why?"</p><p>Jason took a deep breath, "You remember the details about it?"</p><p>"Twenty chocolate cookies, twenty glazed cookies, twenty snickerdoodles, and thirty banana nut muffins, for-," he caught up to his mind with a sense of dread, "today."</p><p>"In two hours."</p><p>"Rush hour baking?"</p><p>"Rush hour baking." Jason confirmed, "good luck."</p><p>Rush hour baking entitled Conner using his powers around the kitchen. Levitating accessories and ingredients towards him, and speeding around, mixing and preparing them faster than the eye could see. Other kryptonians used their powers to save lives and stop disasters; Conner used his to bake cookies. Well, Conner had saved plenty of lives as Superboy, so what if he wanted to make freshly baked goods now?</p><p>As a rule, Conner hated rush hour baking because as the name implied, he was rushed. The kryptonian didn't like being rushed, it was stressful and all around not a fun time. Plus, the quality of the goods tended to drop a bit during the rush hour. Not because Conner was bad at baking or anything like that, but rather the recipes weren't meant to be mixed at super speed levels. Of course they were still amazing, just less amazing than usual.</p><p>Conner was about to jet off, but Jon stopped him with a question first, "What about my frosting?"</p><p>The older Kent looked down, "Maybe later, I'm really busy now."</p><p>"But-" Conner didn't listen, and sped over to the pantry, grabbing a myriad of ingredients with TTK. Everything from eggs, flour and baking soda to milk, butter and mayonnaise. Jason had sworn the other man to secrecy on the mayo, it made any cake or muffin impossibly moist. The baker got started on the cookie dough first, it was the easiest to make, and the differences between the recipes were minor.</p><p>With a wooden spoon in hand, the baker set out to make sixty cookies. No biggie. Conner's dilemma was sailing rather smoothly, but he was running low on time. <em>Fuckfuckfuckfuck</em>, in his haste, Conner snapped the spoon that he was working with. He cursed aloud, but that didn't bother Jon. The kid seized his opportunity, and he once again asked, "Can you make me frosting now?"</p><p>The older Kent was not in the mood to deal with him now. "No, can't you see that I'm busy!" he snapped, "go away!"</p><p>Conner was too busy rummaging for a new spoon to notice the look on Jon's face. "But-"</p><p>"Go away, kid!" The notion seemed to have gotten through Jon's thick skull, and he padded out of the room. Without Jon's presence in the room distracting him, Conner was able to make rapid progress on the order. Chocolate chips were added and cookies were glazed and sugared. The majority of the order finished, Conner stopped and rested his arms on the table. Super speed was exhausting to use, in the kryptonian's opinion, normal baking was far more fulfilling.</p><p>He had ninety minutes to spare, and was gathering ingredients for the next part of the order when Jason walked in. "Smells great in here," Jason whistled, "where's Jon?"</p><p>Conner paused, "He's... not with you?"</p><p>"Why would he be with me? You were watching him?"</p><p>"He fucked off about fifteen minutes ago, I thought you were entertaining him."</p><p>"Conner," Jason started slowly, "where is Jon?"</p>
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